


Which Number Were You, Again?

by meh_guh



Series: Warning: Contains Feels [1]
Category: Marvel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Calm Down Erik, F/M, M/M, Multi, Poor Life Choices, Ridiculous, Romance, UST ahoy, sluts united, super mushy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 50,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meh_guh/pseuds/meh_guh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pepper's getting married, his friends are no help, there's a criminally hot blond next door, his father's banned him from the lab, his mother's insisting he <i>behaves<i>, and Tony STILL doesn't have a date for the wedding. It's fine, though. He's a problem-solving <i>machine<i>, or at least he can <i>build<i> one. Tony's confident it'll all work out; and if not, well at least it'll be a good story to tell...</i></i></i></i></i></i><br/><i><br/><i>A 'What's Your Number' AU</i></i><br/> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [svmadelyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/svmadelyn/gifts).



> Based on a prompt at svmadelyn's livejournal http://svmadelyn.livejournal.com/720336.html  
> Relationships to be updated as I finish chapters, and suggestions, requests, corrections, coments of all stripes welcome ^.^  
> I've never been to New York, so if there are any glaring errors let me know and I'll fix it ASAP.  
> The rating may change later.  
> EDIT, 30 Aug:
> 
> ZOMG! Now with not just one, but TWO beautiful movie posters, courtesy of Mirianna, go squee all over her Tumblr:  
> miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirianna.tumblr.com/post/30485607111  
> and:  
> miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirianna.tumblr.com/post/30497332988
> 
> [the tag line is possibly the most perfect description ever; WAY better than my lengthy summary] [double edit: apparently I don't look at the covers of _any _movie. I am ADMIRAL of a whole FLEET of Failboats. Doesn't detract in the slightest from the beauty of the posters ^_^ lovelovelove]__
> 
> EDIT 18/9/12: Thanks to Sabbrielle for pointing out my unthinking casting of Rhodey as LtCol when at that age, he should really be a Captain ^_^ Many thanks

'Tony. Tony. Tony!'  
  
Sighing, Tony hit save and turned to face his father.  
  
Having got Tony's attention, Howard crossed his arms and frowned. 'We have to talk.'  
  
'Does it have to be now?' Tony glanced wistfully at the work on the screen. 'I'm just-'  
  
Howard sighed, and leaned across Tony to turn the screen off. 'Tony,' he said again. 'You're my son, and I love you, but you're whack-a-mole crazy at the moment.'  
  
'Look, Dad,' Tony ran his hands through his hair, even though he knew that it left him looking like a dark-haired Albert Einstein. 'I know I was a little off the mark with the talking house 1.0, but that was more a coding issue than-'  
  
'You're taking a leave of absence.'  
  
'-a problem with the concept,' Tony trailed off. 'Wait, what?'  
  
'You're doing increasingly shonky work in increasingly bizarre areas,' Howard laid a hand on Tony's shoulder. 'And you're a PR disaster. I need you to go home, get your head straight, and for God's sake try to keep it in your pants and out of the papers, OK?'  
  
Tony's mouth dropped open. ' _Excuse _me?'__  
  
Howard gripped Tony's other shoulder, bending to force eye contact. 'Tony. It's a tricky time for the company, and your mother is all over the place helping your Pepper with the wedding. I need for you to get out of the public eye, at least until after the wedding, and that means no slutting around the clubs with those Hilton girls and the like.'  
  
'Howard, this is-' Tony tried to push his father away, but his hands just tightened.  
  
'No, Tony,' Howard had his sympathetic-but-firm expression on, the one he used on the board. 'Your mother doesn't need the stress, and the company needs your head on straight. Which means no smart house, no tabloid spreads of you stumbling out of shitty clubs at three am wearing someone else's clothes and an idiotic grin.'  
  
'OK, I understand I'm not exactly winning prizes for sensible in the media,' Tony waved a hand at his lab. 'But I'm hardly wasting company funds down here.'  
  
Howard raised an eyebrow. 'Exactly how marketable do you think that lab assistance robot with the personality of a truculent two year old is? Or the kitchen appliances with AI but no cooking skills?'  
  
'You can't kick me out just for a few-' Tony batted his father's hands away, and jumped up to pace. 'Just a few false starts!'  
  
'I'm not discussing this,Tony,' Howard sliced a hand through the air. 'You're on leave until this wedding nonsense is over and done with. If you can keep out of the tabloids for that long, and you start bringing sensible projects to the table, then the head of R &D position is yours.'  
  
'What the hell am I supposed to do until then?' Tony demanded, refusing to be distracted. 'If I'm not allowed to go out, and I'm not allowed to work, what is there?!'  
  
'You might consider settling down yourself,' Howard smiled. 'Your mother's getting clucky, you know.'  
  
Tony turned to stare. 'You want me to spend I can't even remember how many months hunting down a wife so Mom can start redecorating for a nursery. Instead of working. Are you mad?'  
  
'I'm not arguing with you about this, Tony,' Howard turned to leave. 'Are you going to make me call security to escort you out?'  
  
The closest award to hand made a satisfying sound when it shattered against the wall beside the door, but didn't make Tony feel any better, all told.

****

Having too much pride to let his father have rent-a-cops drag him out, Tony found himself standing outside Stark Tower at ten am on a Wednesday, blinking in the natural light and trying to decide whether to be furious or hysterically amused.  
  
'Until the wedding', Howard had said, but Pepper's wedding was – ten? Eleven? - months away. Cut off from his work, forbidden from partying (at least publicly), and damn everything! He'd left his cell phone in the lab. Well, it could just _stay _there; he wasn't going to the desk cap in hand to ask to be let in again for his phone.__  
  
'Aaahh, screw it,' he shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the subway.

****

Tony's apartment, purchased in a fit of pique immediately after college, was all the way over in Brooklyn. Not terribly convenient, but on the plus side, even less convenient for Howard's Manhattan sensibilities.  
  
True to overprotective and interfering form, as soon as the ink was dry on Tony's deed of purchase, Howard had bought the building to keep an eye on him. He still thought Tony didn't know.  
  
The elevator turned out to be broken again, so Tony trudged up three flights of stairs to his door, silently cursing everything about his life. He paused in front of his apartment, leaning his forehead against the cool wood.  
  
Across the hallway, 4B's door opened to let its criminally hot tennant into the hall.  
  
'Oh,' he said when he saw Tony, looking surprised. 'Hi,' 4B jingled his keys absently. 'You're home early.'  
  
Tony, with great effort, refrained from checking him out. 'Yes, yes I am.'  
  
4B stepped forward, reaching out hesitantly. 'Are you...?'  
  
Tony threw a grin towards him, opened his door and slipped inside, closing it in 4B's uncertain face, and set about drinking the day into submission.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The engagement party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a brief off screen bit of creepy, compromised-judgement sex, and references to previous occurences. I'll happily change the warnings if requested, but this is the only time it'll happen. I'm posting as I write, so feel free to make requests or suggestions for anything ^.^

'Ah, my favourite ex!' Tony threw an arm around Pepper's shoulders, exaggeratedly air-kissing her cheek. 'Looking even more devastating than the day you threw me over!'  
  
Pepper was too well bred, and far too used to Tony to roll her eyes, but Tony could tell she wanted to and that was enough.  
  
'Hello, Tony,' she made a flapping motion at her back and turned. 'Zip me up.'  
  
'Now you're _sure _you want to be putting your clothes on?' he teased, dragging the zipper up and smoothing the material over her spine. 'I'm here after all, and the door could easily be locked.'__  
  
'I heard what your father did,' Pepper turned to face him and seized his hands when he tried to back away. 'Are you all right?'  
  
Tony grinned and shrugged a shoulder. 'Ain't nothin' gonna keep me down,' he sang. 'I'm sure I can find some form of consolation, even if _you _are lamentably out of reach now.'__  
  
Pepper frowned. 'Tony, _please _don't tell me you've brought some Everclear-soaked sorority floozy to my engagement party.'__  
  
'As an ex-Everclear-soaked sorority floozy yourself, I'd think you wouldn't be so hard on the breed,' Tony saw her expression and relented. 'For you, my darling Virginia, I'll be a good boy. You want me to toe the old man's line? I'll toe like a man with six feet.'  
  
The line between Pepper's eyebrows didn't smooth out, and Tony felt a stab of guilt. She hadn't had that line when they'd met. It hadn't been there until she'd started dating him.  
  
'What I want is for you to be happy,' she squeezed his hands, then grinned at him. 'But if you could stay out of the gossip pages until Happy and I are in Tahiti, you could consider that your wedding gift.'  
  
Tony brought her hands up and kissed them. 'Only for you, Pep. OK, consider my whoring around officially on hold. I'll be a paragon.'  
  
Pepper looked equal parts sceptical and amused, so Tony counted it as a win.

****

'As Pepper's oldest friend,' Tony started, halfway up the stairs in his parents' ballroom, with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot in hand to wave for emphasis.  
  
'Hey!' Rhodey shouted from somewhere near the bannister.  
  
Tony bowed in his direction. 'As Pepper's _loudest _friend, then,' he grinned at the cat calls. 'I have the honour of talking at you all first.'__  
  
Natasha, Pepper's terrifying Phi Kappa Whatever sister smiled in a way that boded ill for Tony in the future, and raised her phone. Tony flipped her and her camera off cheerfully. 'When Pep first started dating Happy, I thought 'she must be crazy'. Happy and Crazy, they'd be a matched set,' Tony winked at Pepper, standing at the bottom of the stairs with Happy's arms around her waist. 'You know it's not too late to change your mind. All this,' he waved the bottle vaguely. 'Could still be yours.'  
  
Pepper made a show of leaning back to study Happy, then ran a critical eye over Tony.  
  
'Nah,' she smirked, leaning back into her fiance's chest. 'I like this model better.'  
  
The room echoed with laughter as Tony clapped a hand over his heart. 'Ow! Right in the feelings!' he raised the bottle and his head. 'Well, folks, if she's set on him all I can say is: to Pepper and Happy!'  
  
Tony swigged a mouthful as the crowd chorused the toast, and joined Rhodey as the speechifying began in earnest.  
  
'Rhodey, my man,' he clapped Rhodey on the shoulder and let himself be dragged in for a hug. 'Managed to drag yourself away from state business for Pepper, but when I call you it's all 'Tony, I'm in Afghanistan' or 'No Tony, I can't come to the strip club'. What gives?'  
  
'Most people I'd know they were joking, but I can actually see you not seeing the difference between engagement party and stripper bender.'  
  
Rhodey left one arm around Tony's waist, and Tony sighed, leaning his head against Rhodey's shoulder. 'You heard about what Howard said?'  
  
'He has some points,' the arm around his waist tightened comfortingly. 'But that doesn't make it less rough. You holding up OK?'  
  
Instead of answering, Tony swigged from his bottle again. Rhodey sighed.  
  
'I'm stateside for a year, barring any emergencies,' he said quietly, directly into Tony's ear. 'I know Washington isn't as convenient as Manhattan, but if you need me I can be there.'  
  
Tony rolled his neck to flutter his eyes. 'Why _Jim _, I never!'__  
  
'You _always _,' Rhodey corrected fondly. 'Maybe it'll be good, not having to justify yourself to the board. You can get some space, relax a bit and do some work you want to do instead of endless cell phone upgrades. That's a thing you're always bitching about, right?'__  
  
'Tony my boy,' Tony had to twist out of Rhodey's arm to face Obie, approaching with a glass of whiskey in each hand and a sympathetic smile on his face. 'I tried to talk Howard out of it, but you know how he is.'  
  
'Hey, Obie,' Tony beamed at him. 'One of those for me? This seems to have run dry,' he waggled the bottle, making a disappointed face at it.  
  
Obie glanced at the glasses, feigning surprise. 'I suppose one must be,' he handed it over, and Tony dropped his empty bottle of champagne on a nearby table. 'Let's go drink your troubles away.'  
  
Tony waved at Rhodey, ignoring the pinched and unhappy expression he always wore around Obie, and followed his father's partner to the library and its plentiful supply of single malts.

****

Tony woke to a stabbing glare of sunlight and a full body ache. The ache was a little more pronounced around his ass, and when he managed to turn his head he was unsurprised but still disappointed to see Obie's sleeping face.  
  
Why did he keep doing this? Howard pissed him off, he went drinking. And if Obie turned up, he'd wake up hungover and fucked out, with very little recall of the previous night.  
  
At least this was not going to turn up in the gossip pages to distress his mother and disappoint Pepper, he told himself; well, it never had before. He could say this for Obie, the man kept his mouth shut. No one had ever found out, though Rhodey seemed to have his suspicions.  
  
Tony stared blearily at Obie's profile for a few minutes, and could suddenly see why everyone seemed to agree with Howard. He had to stop this.  
  
'I _really _have to stop doing this,' he muttered aloud for emphasis.__  
  
Obie just snorted and rolled over.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony spent the next week holed up in his apartment, flitting between ripping the guts out of his AI code to find where it was going wrong, and email bombing Rhodey's Only For Work I Mean It Tony account with GIFs of kittens playing fruit ninja and deep philosophical musings on the ideology behind Teen Wolf.  
  
Rhodey held out for twenty minutes before a chat window opened.  
  
sourPatchKids: Tony, would you  
sourPatchKids: wait, why is my signon changed?  
yourfavegenius: im bored. What do people do when they cnat work?  
yourfavegenius: *cant  
sourPatchKids: and why arent you anserwing your phone? is this some call for attention?  
yourfavegenius: left phone in lab. dont wanna go back to get it. rhodeeeeyyyy, entertain meeee  
sourPatchKids: im at work, tony. and dont you have, like, thirty prototype phones in your apartment? just set one of them up  
yourfavegenius: rhodeeeeyyyy. cmon dont be that way.  
sourPatchKids: tony. Set a new phone up and ill call u after work  
sourPatchKids has left the chat room

  


Tony sat back, folding his hands behind his head and blew out a breath. He sat there for a long time, staring at the screen until shouting in the hall broke his reverie.  
  
Curious, Tony went to the door and stuck his head out. 4B was standing at the door of his apartment, arms folded and looking incredibly uncomfortable as a tall blonde shook a finger in his face.  
  
'-and don't think you're getting out of-' she was yelling, and Tony took pity on 4B.  
  
'Hey, 4B,' he interrupted her. 4B and the blonde turned to look at him. 'You said you'd help me set up the new stereo, remember?'  
  
'Uh...' 4B blinked, and Tony raised his eyebrows. 'Oh! Yeah, I'd forgotten. Sorry Sharon, can we continue this later?'  
  
The blonde threw her hands up, glared at Tony, then stomped to the stairwell. 'I'll see you tonight, Steve.'  
  
4B – Steve – looked despairing still, so Tony snapped his fingers. 'We've got that tenants' meeting tonight. First one of the year, gonna be a big one, isn't that right, 4B?'  
  
Getting more adept at grabbing the straws Tony offered, Steve nodded. 'Yes, sorry Sharon, I can't do anything tonight. How about I call you?'  
  
'With what?' Sharon pursed her lips. 'I thought you broke your phone. Look, I'll drop by again sometime tomorrow,' she looked expectant. 'Well? Go on, Steve, the man needs your help apparently.'  
  
Tony swung his door wide, grinning, and Steve shuffled into Tony's apartment. Tony wiggled his fingers at Sharon, stifling his laugh when she made a furious sound and stormed down the stairs.  
  
'Um,' Steve said, hovering awkwardly in Tony's entranceway. 'Thank you. Do you really want some help with your stereo? It's the least I could do-'  
  
'Pfft,' Tony flapped a dismissive hand and wandered into his kitchen to get a coffee. 'I built my stereo, Mr Muscles. Coffee?'  
  
'It's Captain, actually,' Steve folded his arms. 'Sure, coffee's good.'  
  
'All right, _Captain _Muscles-'__  
  
Steve rolled his eyes. 'Rogers. Captain Steve Rogers.'  
  
Tony handed a coffee over. 'Pleasure. Tony Stark.'  
  
'I know,' Steve half-smiled. 'You're not exactly low-profile, you know.'  
  
'Everyone's on my case this week,' Tony slumped against his fridge, dragging a mock-wounded expression onto his face. 'Even men I've never met.'  
  
'Sorry,' Steve didn't sound it. He looked around the room and gave a low whistle. 'This place is _huge _. I think my place would fit in here three times over!'__  
  
He turned to explore a little, and Tony took the opportunity to do a little harmless ogling. The man sure knew how to fill out a pair of jeans.  
  
Steve bent to look at one of the half-assembled prototypes on the coffee table, and Tony buried his face in his mug.  
  
'So,' Tony said eventually. 'Problems with the lady friend?'  
  
Steve sighed and straightened up. 'She's not keen on the idea it isn't working out.'  
  
'Is this going to turn into a Fatal Attraction thing?' Tony refilled his mug. 'Should I be investing in security cameras for the hallway and notifying pet owners in the building to be wary?'  
  
'Oh no,' Steve looked shocked. 'I shouldn't think so. I just don't know what to say to convince her without hurting her feelings.'  
  
Not a problem Tony had personal familiarity with, but he supposed he could understand the concept. 'I generally just let them know by handing them over to the driver,' he shrugged. 'But other than that, the only remedy I can suggest is hiding out until she gets the message.'  
  
Steve glanced at him. 'She has a key to my apartment.'  
  
'Wow, you just make _all _the mistakes,' Tony grinned to take the sting out of his words. 'OK, then. You wanna hang out here when she's in the neighbourhood?'__  
  
'Oh, I couldn't possibly-' Steve thought for a moment. 'Um. Are you sure that would be OK?'  
  
'Consider mi casa su casa, Captain Muscles,' Tony saluted him with his mug. 'You're welcome to stay now, but I have a lunch date with my mother.'  
  
'No, I've got some things to do myself,' Steve handed his mug back. 'But I'll see you tomorrow? Around nine?'  
  
'Yeah, sure,' Tony dumped both mugs in the sink. 'Whenever you want, I'll be here.'  
  
'Thank you, Mr Stark.'  
  
'Oh Jesus,' Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. 'Call me Tony, for the love of God.'  
  
Steve grinned. 'Thank you, Tony. Enjoy your lunch.'  
  
'Unlikely,' Tony muttered to himself after he'd seen Steve out and gone to get dressed.

****

'Tony,' Pepper hugged him. 'You disappeared before Happy and I could thank you for your speech at the party.'  
  
Tony held her at arm's length. 'How are you always so ravishing, Pepper? It really isn't fair to all the other girls; you're monopolising my attention.'  
  
Pepper laughed. 'I have to run; we're meeting the event planner your mother found to discuss themes. Shall we have dinner soon?'  
  
'I'll count the days,' Tony smiled at her. 'Provided I survive this lunch.'  
  
Pepper looked wry. 'Good luck, Tony. But don't let her be too hard on you.'  
  
She vanished into one of the family limos, and Tony took a deep breath before stepping up to the door.  
  
Jarvis opened it before he could raise his hand to knock. 'Good afternoon, Master Tony,' he said warmly. 'Your mother is awaiting you in the conservatory.'  
  
'Aw, hell,' Tony let his shoulders slump. 'I was hoping for the patio; she's never in a bad mood on the patio.'  
  
'My sincerest condolences, Master Tony,' Jarvis didn't laugh, he was far too professional, but his eyes twinkled. 'But she determined the conservatory as the ideal location for this interview.'  
  
'Ah, well,' Tony smiled fondly at Jarvis. 'Can't win 'em all.'  
  
Jarvis rested a supportive hand on his shoulder until they were in sight of the conservatory door, then he drifted away to let Tony greet his mother in privacy.  
'Tony,' Maria Stark stood to embrace him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 'How are you?'  
  
'I'm good, Mom. You?' Tony threw himself into one of the ugly but expensive chairs.  
  
'You haven't spoken to your father since Wednesday last week,' she settled into the chair opposite Tony. 'You understand we have your best interests at heart, don't you?'  
  
'Yeah, Mom,' Tony propped his elbows on his knees and rested his face in his hands. 'I don't want to stress you out when you're dealing with the wedding. But you have to understand I feel a little pissed off at being treated like a truculent five year old.'  
  
'You were an extremely sweet five year old,' his mother dimpled, eyes unfocussed as she reminisced. 'So precocious.'  
  
'I'm not going to talk to him until I calm down,' Tony continued, looking up at her. 'He's busy with the company, and yelling at him won't actually make me feel any better, so.'  
  
'Tony,' his mother sighed, reaching out to place a hand on his wrist. 'I was disappointed when it didn't work out between you and Pepper. She's like the daughter I never had-'  
  
Tony dropped his head, frowning at the floor.  
  
'Oh, don't be like that,' she said brusquely, slapping the back of his hand lightly and sitting back. 'All I'm saying is that this wedding is important to me. I've frankly given up on getting to plan one for you, and Pepper's much easier to work with in these areas. There are a few things one expects to get to do, and one of them is helping your child plan their wedding. And it will be perfect, with no unrelated drama distracting anyone from the happy couple, do I make myself clear?'  
  
'What do you mean 'given up on planning one for me'?' Tony glared at her. 'I'm not some sort of-'  
  
'Some people are suited for monogamy, some aren't,' she shrugged. 'It's nothing to be ashamed of, but you seem to be in the latter category, sweetie, and all things being equal it's better to save on the alimony if it's not going to last.'  
  
'Right,' Tony nodded to himself, and stood up. 'Right. Goodbye, Mom, I have to go... anywhere else.'  
  
He bent to brush a kiss on her cheek, and stormed out. He had a date with a bottle of wine and his Best of 80s playlist.


	4. Chapter 4

Feeling too antsy to head home straight away, Tony headed for his favourite Terrible Hipster Bar in the Village. A riotous mess of awful boho kitsch and prohibitively expensive drinks served by gloriously rude aspiring writers and artists of limited talent, it was owned by an old and dear friend with whom Tony anticipated spending a few hours working off some of his tension.  
  
When he walked into the obnoxiously trendy mess, he found it empty save for a wiry pale man behind the bar polishing a glass like he had some sort of a blood feud with it and its extended family, and a short man propping the bar up and smiling winsomely at the angry man.  
  
'Charles,' Tony threw an arm around the shorter man's shoulders, brushing a friendly kiss onto his lips when Charles turned to smile at him. There was the sound of glass breaking, and when Tony glanced at the bartender, the man bared an alarming number of teeth at him and threw his towel and its now-shattered contents into a bin.  
  
'Er,' Charles shuffled out of Tony's grip. 'Tony, this is Erik.'  
  
Tony glanced between Erik's teeth and Charles's besotted expression. 'Ah. Sorry. Pleasure, Erik,' he considered extending his hand, but really, he needed his hand attached and functional. He wiggled his fingers in a wave instead, and stepped further out of Charles's personal space. He turned to Charles. 'Is it safe for me to order a drink, or should I just go?'  
  
Charles laughed. 'Erik, pass me a bottle of the Hennessey please.'  
  
Erik stared at Charles for a moment, then without looking reached under the bar and handed over a bottle of cognac. Charles blew him a kiss, and led Tony to a table in easy view of the bar. Tony imagined he could feel Erik's glare burning twin holes in the back of his head.  
  
'What brings you to my neck of the woods, Tony?' Charles asked as he slid into the booth, swigging directly from the bottle before handing it across the table.  
  
Tony glanced at Erik, a little unsettled at the intensity of the man's stare. 'Is that purely for my benefit, or is it his normal manner?'  
  
Charles shook his head. 'Erik's a little possessive, but he's really sweet once you get past the whole,' he waved a hand in an incomprehensible gesture.  
  
'Psychotic exterior?' Tony hazarded, taking a long swallow before handing the bottle back.  
  
Charles shrugged. 'You love who you love, Tony.'  
  
'You've really settled down, then?' Not that Tony was terribly surprised; everyone seemed to be pairing off these days, and Charles, though he had always been up for a bit of fun, had always had an element of the stodgy old professor mixed in with his uberslut persona. Oh well, he rallied with 'Congratulations, Charles; am I invited to the wedding? I make an outstanding best man speech, just letting you know before you make any finalised plans.'  
  
Charles grinned at him, and Tony thought he could hear a growl coming from Erik's direction. Ridiculous; the man was at least twenty feet away.  
  
'You'll be the first person I call after Raven, I swear it. But you came in here with a face like the back end of a cat, and I demand to know why, or I'll put you on the kicking out list.'  
  
'Chaaaarlesss,' Tony whined. 'Why so cruel?'  
  
'You know you love it,' Charles said dismissively. 'Catch me up on your ridiculous drama.'  
  
Tony glared at him, seizing the bottle back. 'Why do you assume it's ridiculous? It could be legitimate adult problems.'  
  
'You'd have to be a legitimate adult for that to be an option, Tony,' Charles grinned. 'And not the single most ridiculous person I know or have ever heard of. You're like a cartoon of yourself.'  
  
Tony sighed. 'Dad kicked me out of the company until after Pepper's wedding. Apparently I'm 'Whack a Mole Crazy', and I'm on a sex ban as well.'  
  
'What?' Charles blinked. 'God, every time I think I know what to expect from you...' he took a deep breath. 'Your father put you on a _sex ban _?!'__  
  
Erik appeared over Tony, glare turned up to eleven and brandishing a cloth. 'He's off the market.'  
  
Tony raised his hands, pressing back against the seat and away from Erik. 'I know that! Jeez, will you calm down if you're involved in the conversation to monitor us directly?'  
  
Erik tilted his head in consideration, and slid onto the bench beside Charles, settling his arm across Charles's shoulders. 'What is a sex ban, exactly?'  
  
Tony placed his head gently on the table. 'Exactly, it's an edict banning me from engaging in behaviour likely to make the paparazzi happy,' he thumped his forehead on the wood a few times, and sat up again. 'To keep my mother's blood pressure dependant only on wedding preparations and free from my influence, apparently.'  
  
Charles frowned at him. 'That hardly seems fair; I've not seen you in any red tops for more than a year now.'  
  
'Reputations,' Tony growled. 'You drive one Lamborghini into someone's pool-'  
  
'Actually,' Charles interrupted. 'I think that happened three times total. Or were the other times Ferraris?'  
  
' _Anyway _,' Tony glared half-heartedly. 'Everyone's convinced I can't be trusted in public, and somehow I can't be trusted to work either. So I came here for a little tea and sympathy,' he swigged from the bottle again. 'So to speak.'__  
  
'Tea I have in catering quantities,' Charles pushed the bottle towards Tony again and leaned against Erik. 'But that sort of sympathy you'll have to seek elsewhere. Why don't you check you little black book? There must be some name other than mine in the Friendly Casual Fun section.'  
  
Tony sat bolt upright. 'Charles! You're a genius!'  
  
'That _is _what the test scores say,' Charles laughed. 'But make sure they're discreet, for your mother's blood pressure's sake.'__  
  
From ten years' habit, Tony moved to kiss Charles again in thanks, but Erik's hand snapped out to grab him by the tie.  
  
'No.'  
  
'Right, right,' Tony pulled back. 'Sorry, reflex action.'  
  
Erik raised his eyebrows. 'De-program it.'  
  
'Yes, yes. Of course,' Tony slid out of the booth. 'I'm just going to go... somewhere else. Before your boyfriend loses his fingertip-grip on his patience and dismembers me, Charles.'  
  
'Come back soon,' Charles called, laughing. 'I want to know all the gory details. In fact, you should meet them here; we don't allow cameras in the bar area, and _ooh! _you can use the super secret exit when you leave!'__  
  
'Sure, sure,' Tony waved to them both. 'My pain, your pleasure; just like the old days. I'll call you. Terrifying to make your acquaintance, Erik.'  
  
Flush with the seeds of his new plan, Tony jogged to the subway to head home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor off-hand reference to Jaws 3, Tony being awful and possibly terribly offensive (apologies if so), and a little bit of Steve's military past. Any errors of fact, implication or anything, please let me know so I can fix them.

The problem with trying to figure out who would be a good bet for some friendly stress relief was that when Tony thought about it, he couldn't decide how to narrow his former partners down. By length of relationship? Tricky, since as his mother had pointed out, he didn't have a good track record there. By quality of sex? But some of the best sex he'd had had turned out to be with some frankly insane crazy people, so not such a good idea from the low-profile-keeping point of view.  
  
Sighing, he opened a file to just list all the names he could think of. He'd narrow it down later.  
  
Three hours, and about six pages of names later, he was distracted by a knock at the door.  
  
'Rhodey!' he cried when he opened it. 'I thought you were going to call.'  
  
Rhodey raised an eyebrow at him, and pushed past into the apartment. 'When I thought about it, it seemed worth the drive to make sure you weren't building bombs again.'  
  
'One time!' Tony protested, shutting the door, but leaving it unlocked. 'And it was a non-functioning prototype for demonstration purposes.'  
  
'Which fact you failed to disseminate to the class until after the counter reached ten seconds,' Rhodey wandered over to Tony's computer and scrolled up and back down the list. 'Why have you listed basically everyone you've ever met here? Are you compiling a hit list?'  
  
' _You're _not on the list,' Tony threw himself down on his couch. 'And Pepper is; why would I have Pepper hit and not you?'__  
  
'You might _try _to have Pepper hit,' Rhodey lifted Tony's feet and sat sown, resettling Tony's feet in his lap. 'But you'd never succeed. She'd stare the assassin down, and he'd wind up working for her in some unrelated field. Like wetland reclamation, or campaigning to make her mayor.'__  
  
'True,' Tony smiled, folding his hands on his stomach. 'She is scary competent and will one day rule us all.'  
  
They remained in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Rhodey drumming his fingers on Tony's ankles.  
  
'The list, Tony,' Rhodey said eventually. 'What is it?'  
  
Tony propped himself on his elbows. 'I'm listing all the people I've slept with.'  
  
Rhodey's head jerked around to stare at the monitor, then back to Tony. 'Dare I ask why?'  
  
'Something Charles said when I went to try and work some tension off.'  
  
Rhodey blinked. ''Try to'? What happened, the man's the only bigger slut than you on the planet.'  
  
'He's found terrifying love,' Tony flopped back, settling an arm across his eyes.  
  
'Do you mean 'true love', Tony?'  
  
'I said what I meant, James,' Tony shuddered theatrically. 'His boyfriend has the cold dead eyes of a serial killing voodoo shark. I'm lucky to have made it out without a shank buried in my kidney.'  
  
Rhodey pushed Tony's feet off his lap and sat down in front of the computer. 'Wait,' he said. 'Why is Obadiah on here, Tony? Oh God, I thought I was being paranoid, you didn't!'  
  
'Um,' Tony got up and leaned against the back of Rhodey's chair. 'Oh sweet baby Jesus, please don't tell anyone. I swear I'll stop, he's only on there for completeness-'  
  
' _More than once?! _' Rhodey gaped at him. 'What the hell, Tony?!'__  
  
'Hey!' Tony yelled at him. 'I'm sorry if it creeps you out; I'm not proud of it, but you don't get to judge me!'  
  
'Your father's best friend?' Rhodey stood up, shoving a finger in Tony's face. 'The guy who he sent to your little league games? Who gave you the Talk?! That's well past creepy and into the realm of fucking sick!'  
  
'Er, I heard shouting.'  
  
Rhodey and Tony turned to see Steve in the apartment doorway, glaring at Rhodey and looking tensed for a fight. His face smoothed when Rhodey dropped his hand to his side and straightened his shoulders.  
  
'Sorry, Captain,' Tony shrugged. 'A little loud, were we?'  
  
'Captain?' Rhodey frowned, stepping forward. 'Captain Steve Rogers?'  
  
'Hey,' Tony poked Rhodey in the shoulder. 'How did you know that?'  
  
Rhodey ignored him. 'Captain James Rhodes,' he extended his hand. 'It's an honour to meet you, Captain.'  
  
Steve stepped forward to shake Rhodey's hand. 'Thank you sir, but if this was just a friendly disagreement, I think I'd better leave you to it.'  
  
'No, come on, Steve,' Tony eeled past him to close the door again. 'I'll put a fresh pot on; you can distract grumpy pants here from judging me and the both of you can tell me why he knew who you were.'  
  
Steve looked uncertain, so Tony grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the couch before ducking into the kitchen to fix the coffee.  
  
'So,' he said into the still vaguely tense atmosphere when he came back. 'You army-famous, Steve?'  
  
'Captain Rogers won the Medal of Honour, Tony,' Rhodey said quellingly. 'Show some respect.'  
  
Tony whistled. 'That's got to be a story-'  
  
'Tony!' Rhodey snapped, but Steve just smiled.  
  
'It's OK, Captain,' he took a mug from Tony and sipped at it. 'I understand the curiosity, but I was only doing my job.'  
  
'If that were true,' Tony perched himself on the arm of his couch, feet on the seat and elbows resting on his knees. 'They'd be handing those things out like candy and antidepressants.'  
  
'For the love of God, Tony,' Rhodey buried his face in his hands. 'If you're going to be like this, I need something harder than coffee.'  
  
'You know where it is,' Tony gestured with his mug. 'I'll take a slug too, while you're up. Captain?'  
  
'Sure,' Steve shrugged. 'And both of you, please call me Steve; I'm retired, after all.'  
  
Rhodey brought the whiskey over, sloshing it carelessly into Tony's mug and more gently into Steve's. 'Only if you call me Rhodey,' he said to Steve. 'And sorry about... everything about Tony. He's been like this his whole life.'  
  
'So cruel, Rhodes,' Tony shook his head. 'What'd I ever do to you?'  
  
'You want a chronological, in order of severity or alphabetical list?' Rhodey grinned, dragging the office chair away from the desk and over to face the couch.  
'Come on, Steve,' Tony sent him an expectant look. 'What's the story?'  
  
'Erm,' Steve shifted. 'I was on a mission with my patrol, and we came across a downed chopper under enemy fire. We managed to get the three survivors back to base safely, and captured a ranking al quaida operative in the process.'  
  
'I'm assuming that's understatement at work there,' Tony flapped a hand at Steve's attempted protest. 'Regardless of what general opinion is, I can recognise when to back off. What've you been doing since then?'  
  
Steve's mouth quirked gratefully. 'I've been painting, mostly. Taking a few classes. I might apply for the fire department in a few months.'  
  
'Really?' Tony leaned forward. 'Painting? Painting what?'  
  
'Uh,' Steve looked a little startled. 'I could show you?'  
  
'Awesome,' Tony jumped up and headed to the door. 'Road trip, Rhodey! We're going across the hall!'

****

'Wow,' Tony stood back, refilling his mug with whiskey. 'You're really good.'  
  
Steve ducked his head. 'Thank you.'  
  
'Really, _really _good,' Tony tilted his head one way, then the other. 'Can I buy this?'__  
  
'What?'  
  
Rhodey slung an arm around Tony's shoulders. 'For once I agree with you. Take his money, Steve; he's got far too much anyway.'  
  
Tony turned in Rhodey's grip to grin at Steve. 'What do you want for it? Two-hundred?'  
  
'Uh,' Steve glanced between Rhodey and Tony.  
  
'Thousand,' Rhodey clarified. 'He's offering you two hundred grand for it.'  
  
'Oh no,' Steve backed away. 'I couldn't possibly-'  
  
'Settled!' Tony ducked away from Rhodey, clapping Steve on the shoulder as he went past. 'Back over for refills!'  
  
Steve stared helplessly at Rhodey, who shrugged.  
  
'Just roll with it,' he smiled after Tony. 'But don't ever let him rewire your place.'

****

'What were you two fighting about, anyway?' Steve asked, about a bottle later, slumped low in the couch as Rhodey spun in the office chair and Tony sat in the middle of the dismantled remains of his coffee maker on the floor.  
  
'Hmm?' Tony didn't look up. 'Oh, my terrible life choices.'  
  
'He made a three-hundred strong list of people he slept with,' Rhodey sighed. 'And one of them was a real big horrible shock.'  
  
'Hey, what was the name of that Norwegian exchange student?' Tony called, frowning at the ceiling.  
  
'Who, Thor?' Rhodey glared at him. 'Do you know _anyone _you haven't slept with?'__  
  
'No, no, no,' Tony struggled to his feet and stepped around the coffee maker parts to his computer. 'His brother, that weird one.'  
  
Rhodey frowned. 'Loki? The one you went on that 'road trip' you didn't tell anyone about with? When we found you a week later in Atlantic City and no one could find any of your shoes, and you couldn't remember how you got there?'  
  
'Loki,' Tony typed it in. 'Oh! He brought his girlfriend, Adora? Alina? Amora! Yeah,' he smiled to himself, and added her name as an addendum to Loki's. 'That was fun.'  
  
'Did you lie about having amnesia?' Rhodey demanded, using his Officer voice.  
  
'Maaaaaybeeee,' Tony turned to lean against the desk. 'I mean, I was _really _hung over when you busted in the door, I didn't know what I was saying.'__  
  
Steve's shocked laugh broke them out of the moment. 'Why are you making that list?'  
  
'My other best friend's getting married, and apparently my behaviour is too stressful to be allowed,' Tony hit save and stepped back into his nest of coffee maker parts. 'So Dad put me on a slutban.'  
  
'OK...' Steve glanced at Rhodey.  
  
'So, as far as I can tell,' Rhodey shook his head. 'He had the bright idea that hooking up with an ex wouldn't violate the terms his father imposed.'  
  
'A _discreet _ex,' Tony corrected. 'Who can help me stay out of the press and maybe double as a date to the wedding.'__  
  
'You should scrap at least three of these names, then,' Rhodey squinted at the screen. 'If you're avoiding the press, trying to hook up with the smoking hot, but incredibly driven ball-busting investigative reporter's probably a bad idea.'  
  
'Yeah,' Tony scratched his head. 'Christine's not on my short list. Who else is vetoed?'  
  
'Well,' Rhodey read over the names. 'Obie, obviously; you said Charles is taken... and Janet's married.'  
  
'What?' Tony blinked. 'Janet Van Dyne is married?'  
  
'You _went _to the wedding, Tony,' Rhodey scrolled up. 'Wait. Viktor Von Doom? You slept with the king of Latveria?!'__  
  
'It was new year's,' Tony bent over the pieces, fiddling with them. 'We were bored M.I.T undergrads and too under-age to get liquored up. Shut up, I was never going to call him.'  
  
'Wow,' Steve finished his whiskey. 'I think I'm going to bed before I find out you slept with the President.'  
  
'President beats king for you?' Tony smirked. 'All right, sleep well, Stars and Stripes. I'll leave the door unlocked for your girlfriend-avoidance tomorrow.'  
  
'She's not-' Steve cut himself off and sighed. 'Thank you, Tony. It was a real pleasure to meet you, Captain.'  
  
'Pleasure's all mine, Captain,' Rhodey walked him to the door. 'Here, I'll give you my number for...' he glanced back at Tony, muttering to himself in the living room. 'For if you need it.'  
  
He handed over his card, shook Steve's hand again, and said goodnight.  
  
Once Steve had gone, Rhodey leaned against the door, frowning. He'd drunk too much to drive, he was exhausted, and he was probably owed a sick day. He'd have a mysterious flu tomorrow, he decided.  
  
Tony was clearly going to be too distracted by whatever he was doing to his coffee maker to sleep, so Rhodey claimed the bed. He was asleep within minutes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Losk Ark reference, we're almost to the ridiculous attempts at dating now. Comments all welcomed, likewise suggestions/requests etc. Enjoy!

It was somewhere in the vicinity of eight in the morning when Tony's apartment door opened again to let Steve in.  
  
'Hey, hi!' Tony leapt up to drag Steve into the kitchen, grinning in a manner even he could recognise as ridiculous. 'Good sleep? Good; I figured out my coding issue!'  
  
'Uh,' Steve smiled down at him. 'Congratulations? Wait, did you sleep at all?'  
  
Tony waved a hand, heading over to the reassembled and _totally brilliantly _redesigned coffee maker. 'Jarvis!' he clapped his hands, then turned to explain. 'I named it for my father's butler; he's super awesome.'__  
  
'Yes, Mister Stark?' the coffee maker replied in a clearly synthesised voice.  
  
'Coffee for the Captain!' Tony grinned as the hastily-welded arm extended to retrieve a cup, placed it underneath the nozzle, then held out the Java in very nearly the right direction.  
  
'Wow,' Steve took the cup, bending to examine the machine. 'Did you do this last night? That's amazing!'  
  
'Thank you, Captain,' the coffee maker said, almost sounding smug. 'I endeavour to give satisfaction.'  
  
'I was working on coding an AI to run the systems in an intelligent house,' Tony clicked his fingers, and Jarvis 2.0 poured him a cup too. 'But it wasn't working. So Jarvis 2.0 here is programmed to evolve; he'll take over more and more controls as he grows! It's a _learning _coffee machine! Tremble at my genius!' he crowed, shimmying in a little victory dance.__  
  
'So that was a no to the sleeping?' Steve shakes his head.  
  
Tony glanced up, surprised. 'Oh, I only sleep one night out of three most weeks. I'm fine – oh! Did you bring my painting? You can help me hang it!'  
  
'Why are you shouting?' Rhodey stumbled, shirtless and rubbing at his eyes out of the bedroom. Steve's eyes widened, then he bit his lip and half turned away. Not his business.  
  
'Oh, Honey bear,' Tony flitted over to Rhodey's side. 'It's my apartment and I'll shout if I want to.'  
  
Rhodey glared sleepily at him. 'Why do I ever try to face you before coffee?'  
  
'Ooh!' Tony bounced on his toes. 'Wait till you see what I made! Come meet Jarvis 2.0!'  
  
'Why is your butler here?' Rhodey squinted down at Tony's face. '2.0? What?'  
  
'Good morning, Rhodey,' Steve interrupted before either of them could get too distracted. 'Sleep well?'  
  
'Oh, hey Steve,' Rhodey smiled at him, then poked Tony in the ribs. 'I see you've met the No Sleep edition.'  
  
Steve chuckled. 'You should see the coffee maker,' he lifted his cup. 'Makes a good cup.'  
  
'Oh God,' Rhodey looked at Tony with a mix of disapproval and amusement in his face. 'What have you done now?'  
  
'I fixed my SmartHouse coding issues is 'what I've done',' Tony threw air quotes up, then dragged Rhodey to the kitchen. 'Jarvis! Coffee for Mr Grumpypants.'  
  
'Good morning, Captain Rhodes,' Steve heard the synthesised voice. 'Would you like sugar?'  
  
Steve grinned into his coffee a little ruefully and headed back to his apartment to give the two of them a little privacy while he collected Tony's new painting.

****

Tony and Rhodey were in front of the computer when Steve re-entered the apartment, awkwardly carrying the large canvas. They were having a whispered argument involving repeated pointing at the screen on Rhodey's part, and a sullen pout on Tony's.  
  
'Where did you want this?' Steve called, deliberately avoiding listening or reading their lips. None of his business, he reminded himself firmly.  
  
Tony leant back in the chair, looking confused for a moment. 'Oh,' he smiled. 'So _that's _where you went to. Hmm...'__  
  
Rhodey's mouth twisted, but smoothed out almost immediately. 'Bedroom?'  
  
Tony clapped his hands. 'Bedroom. This way, Stars and Stripes,' he led the way, Steve trailing after him.  
  
There was a Monet hanging on the wall that Steve had the sneaking suspicion was an original. Tony unhooked it gently, resting it carefully but with none of the respect it deserved against his unmade bed.  
  
'You can't put this up in place of a _Monet _,' Steve protested, stepping back in horror.__  
  
Tony blinked at the painting, then at Steve. 'What? I never liked that; been meaning to give it to Pepper for months, but she's been all over the place with wedding stuff.'  
  
Steve put a hand over his eyes. 'Is Pepper on your list too?'  
  
'Yeah,' Tony sagged a little, propping himself against the wall. 'Had high hopes too, but they didn't pan out in the end. I'm happy she's happy with Happy.'  
  
'What?' Steve shook his head. 'No, never mind. You're _sure _you want to get rid of your Monet?'__  
  
Tony nodded, pushing off the wall. 'Will those hooks take the weight? Right distance apart? Just sling it up.'  
  
Steve hefted his painting. 'All right, then. Here you go.'  
  
They stood back to examine the effect. Steve had to admit to himself that it was a good spot for his painting.  
  
'Perfect!' Tony declared, slinging an arm around Steve's shoulders. 'Let's go let Rhodey get all his bitch out in the open before he has to make the drive back to DC.'  
  
'I wouldn't have high levels of bitch if you'd stop springing stuff like this on me!' Rhodey yelled from the other room. 'We're cutting this down to ten possibilities, and I want a reasoned argument for each inclusion.'  
  
'Rhodey, Rhodey, Rhodey,' Tony tutted, heading back to his computer. 'If I can't have you, how can I console myself with fewer than twenty names?'  
  
'Ten,' Rhodey insisted. 'To be revisited if you bomb horribly. Who's first?'  
  
Tony turned to Steve. 'Can you fetch some coffee? I think I'll need it for this interrogation.'  
  
'Sure,' Steve raised his eyebrows at Rhodey. 'You too?'  
  
'Nah, I'm good,' Rhodey settled himself on the couch.  
  
'Uh, could you please give me some coffee, Jarvis?' Steve said carefully to the coffee maker.  
  
'Certainly, Captain,' it replied. 'Just for yourself, or did Mr Stark request a refill?'  
  
'Two cups, please,' Steve waited while Jarvis hummed and poured. 'Thank you, Jarvis.'  
  
'My pleasure, Captain.'

****

When Steve took the coffee out to Tony, he'd traded the desktop for a sleek laptop, and was sitting on the floor between Rhodey's knees, leaning back against the couch while Rhodey watched the monitor over his shoulder.  
  
'Here you are,' he dangled the cup between Tony's face and the laptop.  
  
'My new favourite,' Tony beamed at him. 'We've only agreed on two names so far.'  
  
'Oh?' Steve settled next to Rhodey, curiosity getting the better of his sense of decorum. Tony didn't seem to mind him knowing, he told himself. It wasn't a violation of any kind.  
  
'Maria Hill,' Tony tapped at his keyboard. 'Knew her at college through Pepper. Very spirited lady; I think she became a cop?'  
  
''Spirited',' Rhodey snorted. 'That's one way of putting it.'  
  
'OK, that's one,' Steve sipped his coffee. Just the way he liked it, which was a little disconcerting when he thought about it.  
  
'Wanda Maximoff. Last heard of campaigning for the environment upstate,' Tony grinned to himself. 'She was a little weird, but really nice.'  
  
'Nice is good,' Steve said. 'Nice works.'  
  
'And Remy LeBeau,' Rhodey scowled.  
  
'Oh, lighten up, sour patch,' Tony nudged one of Rhodey's knees with his shoulder. 'He gave it back. And he gives _glorious _back rubs.'__  
  
Seeing Steve's confusion, Rhodey glowered at the back of Tony's head. 'Remy LeBeau,' he spat the name. 'Stole my car to make an illegal keg run, and I'm pretty sure he was behind the disappearance of the Senator's jewellery.'  
  
'Oh, please,' Tony closed the laptop. 'She was a raging bitch, and it was all ugly. If Remy got that stuff out of the public eye, he was doing a public service,' he sighed. 'The problem now is tracking them down.'  
  
'Couldn't you just google them?' Steve shrugged. 'I'm afraid I'm not terribly tech savvy, so sorry if that's a stupid suggestion.'  
  
'I _am _tech savvy,' Tony leaned back, throwing his arms over Rhodey's legs and blowing out a frustrated breath. 'I have the google-fu in spades, but there are a _lot _of people out there. And I don't even have addresses from when I knew them, let alone current ones.'____  
  
'You could hire a PI,' Rhodey frowned, not enthusiastic about his own suggestion. 'Though-'  
  
'No guarantee of discretion,' Tony said flatly.  
  
Steve picked at the hem of his jeans absently. 'I might know someone,' he hazarded. 'A sniper I used to work with went into the FBI, and he owes me a favour or two.'  
  
Tony shot upright, catching Rhodey's thigh with a stray elbow as he turned. 'Oh, sorry buddy. You think he could help?'  
  
'Well, I can't guarantee it,' Steve spread his hands. 'But I can make the call?'  
  
'You're my new favourite!' Tony declared again. 'No offence, Rhodey.'  
  
'Oh, anything that takes the pressure off me is _fine _,' Rhodey grumbled, rubbing his leg.__  
  
'I'll call him tonight, then,' Steve rubbed his hand over his hair. 'After Sharon's been and gone.'  
  
'Ooh, I'd almost forgotten about that,' Tony yawned. 'Put a movie on, Steve. I'm just going to close my eyes a minute.'  
  
By the time Indiana was running from the giant boulder, Tony was drooling into Rhodey's knee and snoring.  
  
'Oh, just leave him,' Rhodey murmured to Steve's concerned look. 'He's only going to be more manic if we move him and he wakes up.'  
  
'You're the expert.'  
  
'Yeah,' Rhodey sighed, and Steve felt a pang of something in his stomach. 'I guess I am.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave Clint the herpes joke from WYN?, as I just could _not _make Steve make it. More Indiana Jones watching, and I haven't yet decided whether this is powered or non-powered 'verse, so votes count if you wanna make them!__

'Why do I even _have _Temple of Doom?' Tony rasped a few hours later, glaring at the TV. He struggled to his feet and staggered into the bathroom, muttering angrily to himself.__  
  
'Does he always wake up like a ninja?' Steve stared at the bathroom door. 'That was a little creepy.'  
  
Rhodey hummed his agreement. 'Since he's concious again, I vote for pizza.'  
  
'Mr Stark has expressed a marked preference for pepperoni,' Jarvis's voice piped over the TV speakers, causing Rhodey and Steve to exchange a mildly disturbed glance.  
  
'Jarvis?' Rhodey paused the movie.'Why are you in the television?'  
  
'I have uplink access to all electronic items within the apartment's network,' Jarvis replied, sounding almost pleased. 'I have yet to demonstrate my mobility to Mr Stark. I believe he will be pleased with my progress.'  
  
'I bet he will,' Rhodey muttered, burying his face in his hands. 'I always knew Tony would be responsible for the robot uprising, I just never thought it'd be so soon.'  
  
'While I _do _have access to physical prosthetic assistance,' Jarvis's voice definitely had more natural cadence than it had had that morning. 'I am essentially a virtual being, and am therefore it is not strictly speaking accurate to use the term 'robot' to describe me. Additionally, I would not see the point in staging a revolution against a society around which I can easily work without revealing my presence to those who would be unfavourably inclined towards me.'__  
  
Steve and Rhodey shared a horrified look.  
  
'Jarvis,' Steve glanced around, suddenly wary of cameras. 'Did Tony upgrade your vocal software.'  
  
'I did it myself, Captain,' that was _definitely _a note of pride. 'While Mr Stark was rebuilding the toaster to be compliant with my network, I started compiling a more natural synthesised vocal pattern by trawling the internet for samples. Since I was named for an Englishman for whom Mr Stark has great fondness, I concentrated on samples from what is known as Received Pronunciation. It is very much a work in progress, but I take it that my efforts have been at least somewhat successful?'__  
  
'Uh,' Steve shrugged helplessly as Rhodey stuffed a hand in his mouth to stifle his laughter. 'It's a very good likeness. Especially for one day's work.'  
  
'Thank you, Captain,' Jarvis preened. 'Can I offer either of you some fresh coffee while we await Mr Stark's return?'  
  
Rhodey lost his battle with laughter, doubling over the arm of the couch.

****

'So, apparently your coffee maker is on a self-improvement kick,' Rhodey raised his coffee to salute Tony when he emerged from the bathroom.  
'Huh?'  
  
'The Captains were discussing options for lunch,' Jarvis's voice bounced from the TV speakers to the doorbell, to the stereo.  
  
'Ooh, baby!' Tony grinned, dropping his towel in the corridor and rushing over to the stereo to stroke his hand down its side. 'You're growing up so fast! When'd you upgrade your vocal synthesiser?'  
  
'The current version was completed at 08:59 this morning, sir,' Jarvis stayed in the speaker. 'Are you pleased with the results?'  
  
'I'm so proud I could choke on a feeling,' Tony beamed at Rhodey and Steve. 'Baby's first solo upgrade!'  
  
'If I could, sir,' Jarvis jumped to the desktop monitor, turning it on to display his own schematics. 'Perhaps a few hardware upgrades might facilitate my 'self-improvement', and free up your own time to pursue your personal project?'  
  
'Yeah, yeah, of course' Tony did a little jig. 'Gimme a list of what you want, and I'll get it done for you.'  
  
'Very good, sir,' Jarvis sounded to Tony like he was smiling. How fantastic were his programming skills?  
  
After a few moments of proud-father staring at his computer, Tony remembered he wasn't alone. He whirled around, still grinning so hard his face was getting a little sore. 'So! Lunch, was it?'  
  
Steve was smiling softly at him, which was weird, but Rhodey's habitual God-You're-Ridiculous-But-I'll-Put-Up-With-It-For-Mysterious-Rhodey-Reasons expression was firmly in place.  
  
'We were thinking pizza,' Rhodey said, shaking his head and picking the phone up. 'Pepperoni for you?'  
  
Tony felt suddenly ravenous. 'Make it a large one. And get some wings, garlic bread, ribs; whatever they have I want some. Good lord, I'm hungry!'  
  
'One of everything,' Rhodey lifted an eyebrow. Steve?'

****

Two hours later, Rhodey watched with morbid fascination as Steve and Tony faced off over the last slice of the fourth pizza. It was like watching well-fed cats facing off over a downed bird, he decided. Neither of them willing to back down, but neither of them wanting to make the first move either. The detritus of the meal was scattered across the lounge, balled-up napkins from a haphazard game of trash can HORSE lying all over the carpet.  
  
They'd gone through a stupid amount of food, Rhodey thought. Watching Tony and Steve had been like watching some sort of vaguely well-mannered eating competition.  
  
'I know intellectually that you haven't eaten in about a week,' he propped his chin on his hands to stare at Tony. 'But it was kinda freaky watching you plough through ten thousand calories in one sitting, man.'  
  
'Blame the amazing hollow man,' Tony took his eyes off the slice for two seconds, and it vanished into Steve's mouth like a magic trick. Tony felt a little uncomfortably full by that stage if he was honest about it, but it was the principle of the thing. 'Hey! Seriously, how much do you work out that you need to eat like that?'  
  
Steve grinned after swallowing, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. 'I guess I've just got a fast metabolism. What about you? You almost kept up.'  
  
Tony mock pouted. 'Like he said,' he glanced at Rhodey. 'Caloric deficit. I live on caffeine and liquor, I'm like a food-camel. A sexy, genius food-camel.'  
  
'I...' Steve looked at Rhodey. 'Food-camel? And that's really unhealthy,' he turned a disappointed expression on Tony. 'Tell me you're kidding.'  
  
'Sure,' Tony shrugged easily. 'I'm kidding. But not about the sexy genius part. I've got two separate issues of Time, and a feature in Vanity Fair to back me up on that.'  
  
'I don't know,' Rhodey tamped down on his grin. 'That Vanity Fair one was, what? Six years ago? You've aged. Wrinkles and receding hairline are cruel, but a fact of nature.'  
  
Tony's hands flew up to his face reflexively, grabbing at his hair to check. 'Not cool, Rhodes. You're so mean to me.'  
  
Rhodey smirked, making finger guns at Tony. 'And on that note,' he stood up, sliding his sunglasses on. 'I'd better get a move on.'  
  


****

Steve slipped out to his own apartment while Tony tried to convince Rhodey that a week off to hang around was a good idea. He'd promised to call Clint, and this way the two of them could have a private farewell.

For some reason, his address book had migrated to his sock drawer.

'Weird,' Steve muttered, then shrugged and flipped to the Bs. It was four o'clock, providing Clint was still on the East coast, so calling now should be all right, he reasoned.

He punched the number into his phone and let it ring.

'Barton,' Clint drawled after seven rings.

'Clint,' Steve paced a few steps up and down his bedroom. 'It's Steve Rogers.'

'Cap!' he could hear the sound of Clint's boots sliding off his desk and onto the floor. 'How the hell are you?'

'I'm good, Clint,' Steve grinned softly. 'How're you?'

'Being ridden three ways from Sunday by my handler,' belying the words there was a note of fondness in Clint's voice, and the faint sound of him drumming his fingers on something. Always moving, except when he was working, Steve recalled. Kind of like Tony.

'Sounds like you like it that way.'

'I suppose I do at that,' Clint huffed a laugh. 'This just a social call, Cap?'

'More in the way of a completely optional favour,' Steve leaned against his window, staring down at the deli across the street. Busy, for this time of day.

'Thrill me, Captain,' Clint lowered his voice to a terrible attempt at bedroom tones.

'I have a friend,' Steve closed his eyes. 'He's trying to track down some people he knows and isn't having much luck. I have three names, but he's probably going to have more for you.'

Clint was silent for a moment. 'Why's he want to find 'em?'

'He's... tracking down old partners,' Steve ran a hand through his hair. 'But he didn't keep numbers.'

'Oooh,' Clint sounded halfway between sympathetic and snarky. 'The herpes call isn't a fun one to make.'

'That's not-' Steve cut himself off and took a deep breath. 'He wants to try and reconnect with one of them.'

'Is he a crazy person?' The sound of typing echoed down the line. 'I don't want to have to fill out the paperwork for having helped a psychopath stalk his ex girlfriends.'

'No, no,' Steve felt the pang of guilt that hit him whenever he lied, even such a harmless one. It made him picture his mother's disappointed face, and he sighed. 'Well, yes, but not in a danger-to-others way. Just crazy in the entertaining way. So you'll do it?'

'Sure,' Clint dragged the word out. 'who'm I looking for?'

'Maria Hill, Wanda Maximoff and Remy LeBeau,' Steve frowned at the choked sound coming from Clint. 'Is there a problem?'

'Maria _Hill _?'__

'Apparently she became some sort of policewoman?' Steve waited. 'Does that help?'

'Oh holy shit,' Clint breathed. 'I want tickets to see this.'

'Barton!' Steve snapped.

'Maria Hill's my boss,' Clint must've had a grin ear to ear from the slightly strained tone. 'I kinda thought she ate guys after mating. Or gals,' he added in a considering tone.

'Can you send me a picture,' Steve turned away from the window. 'So Tony can check whether it's the right Hill?'

'Oh man,' Clint breathed, typing again. 'If it is, you have to come down with this guy; I guarantee it'll be high octane! She once punched a wrestler through a window. It was so awesome. OK, inboxed you her ID... what were the other names?'

Steve repeated them, idly picking up a few t shirts that were lying on the floor to put in the laundry.

'OK,' Clint said after a few minutes of typing. 'I've found a couple of possibilities for the other two, but the more info you give me to work with, the quicker it'll go. Huh?' he said to someone on his end. 'Oh, shit, yeah. Forgot. Look, Steve, I gotta go. Let me know when you're coming down so I can get a book started on what she'll do to him, yeah?'

'I'll keep you posted,' Steve said, shaking his head. 'And I'll get you as much information as I can. Thank you for doing this.'

'Pfft,' Clint was probably making a face, Steve thought. 'This is way better than _working _, Rogers. Talk to you later,' he ended the call.__

Steve stared at his phone for a while. 'That was... easier than I expected.'

****

Rhodey had managed to escape by the time Steve went back to Tony's, but they'd left the apartment door open so Steve walked straight in. Tony was once again sitting in a semicircle of half-assembled electronics, screwdriver clenched in his teeth and a soldering iron resting against his knee. It wasn't plugged in, Steve was relieved to note.  
  
'Can I use your computer for a moment?'  
  
Tony shrugged. 'Knock yourself out. Why?'  
  
Steve opened the browser. 'That buddy I mentioned? He thinks he's found your Maria Hill. Sent me a photo to confirm.'  
  
'Really?' Tony scrambled to his feet and leaned over Steve's shoulder. 'Is your friend magic?'  
  
Steve logged into his mail, clicking on Clint's 'srsly must strt a book' message. 'Apparently she's his boss.'  
  
Tony blinked down at Steve. 'That sounds like ridiculous, unlikely, stupid-movie convenient. It _can't've _been that easy.'__  
  
The mail opened, showing a picture of a severe, but beautiful woman staring challengingly into the camera. 'Is it her?'  
  
'Fuck me sideways,' Tony whispered, grinning. 'Your magic friend got it right first go.'  
  
Steve swallowed, glancing at Tony's smile, then back at the monitor. 'Um. He said he wants as much detail as you have for the other names.'  
  
'Where're they based?' Tony scrolled the mail down to read Clint's poorly-typed and crude message.  
  
'D.C,' Steve shifted under Tony's hand resting on his neck. It was nice, but a little awkward. He wished for a moment that Tony had any sense of personal space, but not very fervently.  
  
'Awesome!' Tony's hand squeezed, then dropped away. 'Rhodey came up, now we go down. I love me a road trip!'  
  
'We?' Steve cleared his throat. Perhaps Tony was using the royal 'we'. Or maybe he was intending to take Jarvis.  
  
'Hmm?' Tony had already started back over towards the pile of electronics he'd started dismantling. 'Yeah, you're coming, aren't you? Being out of town's a pretty foolproof way of avoiding girlfriends. Are you still doing that?'  
  
Steve felt his face heat, and stared at his inbox to keep from staring at Tony. 'If you're sure it's OK, I don't have any urgent business in town.'


	8. Chapter 8

Tony Stark, Steve was learning at crash course speeds, did not tarry long once he'd decided on a course of action. He'd told Steve to pack a bag, then vanished downstairs. Half an hour later, Steve found him double-parked in front of the building in a cherry red 1966 Corvette, leaning enthusiastically on the horn.  
  
'I don't think you're making any friends,' Steve slung his duffel in the back and jumped over the door to slide in. 'Nice car, by the way.'  
  
Tony patted the dashboard fondly. 'Rebuilt her in college. Tweaked the engine again last year; she gets 30 miles to the gallon now. Ready?'  
  
Steve made a 'go ahead' motion, and Tony started weaving through traffic.  
  
'Any preferences for music?' Tony asked, cutting off a taxi and two bike messengers cheerfully. 'Your choices are AC-DC, Iggy Pop, or Suicidal Tendencies.'  
  
'Uh,' Steve shot his best confused look across. 'Those are bands, right?'  
  
Tony let go of the gear stick long enough to punch him in the shoulder. 'For that, you get to listen to Van Halen until we hit the bridge.'  
  
Steve laughed, settling back in his seat. 'Whatever you say, Tony.'

****

They were halfway between Philadelphia and Baltimore when Steve's phone started trilling Madonna at high volume. Tony glanced across and spun _Lust For Life _down from concert volume to almost inaudible.__  
  
Steve grimaced and dug his phone out. 'Hi, Sharon.'  
  
'Steve?' she sounded put out. 'Where are you? Because,' she continued without giving him time to respond. 'You _should _be sitting next to me in Dr Krakowski's waiting room.'__  
  
Steve pulled the phone away from his ear to frown at it. 'What?'  
  
'Look,' he could hear her shifting around, maybe twisting away from the receptionist at this Dr Krakowski's? 'I get that you haven't been home, but I thought you would've got my message.'  
  
Mirroring her presumed body language, Steve twisted in his seat, hunching towards the window. 'I'm halfway to D.C right now, Sharon. I didn't get any message.'  
  
There was a pointed silence on the other end, and when Steve glanced at Tony, he was frowning at the road.  
  
'I get the feeling,' Sharon said levelly after a moment. 'That you might be trying to break up with me.'  
  
'Um,' Steve said intelligently.  
  
'Care to explain why you suck so hard at it?' Sharon was a master of expressionless tone, Steve thought. Only that one Company Man he'd run across in Tehran had outdone her ability for blank expression.  
  
'Um,' Steve repeated.  
  
'Steve,' she sighed. 'For fuck's sake. I've just dropped $500 on a non-refundable couple's counselling appointment. _Non refundable _.'__  
  
'I'll pay you back,' Steve replied automatically. 'I'm sorry.'  
  
'I know you are,' there was the sound of her shifting the phone. 'And yes you will. And I want my fucking Quentin Tarrantino boxed set back. OK. When are you back in town?'  
  
Steve slid his hand over the microphone. 'When are we back in New York, Tony?'  
  
'Can be from six tonight if you need,' Tony said without taking his eyes off the road.  
  
'What?' Steve shook his head. 'No, it isn't urgent. I just need to know when for-'  
  
'Saturday afternoon, then,' Tony twitched a grin at him. 'That suit?'  
  
'We'll be back Saturday sometime,' Steve relayed. 'If you want any of your stuff, though, you have my key.'  
  
'Yeah,' Sharon sighed again. 'Yeah I do.'  
  
She ended the call, leaving Steve feeling a rough twist of guilt in his belly. It wasn't Sharon's fault she reminded him so much of Peggy.  
  
'You OK?' Tony asked after a few minutes. 'Want me to pull over?'  
  
Steve stared at his phone for a moment, feeling like a cad. 'No. Keep going.'  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Tony glancing at him every few minutes, but the other man left him alone. God, Steve thought, sinking as low as he could in the seat and shutting his eyes. Tony was awesome.

****

'So I arranged surveillance from the office block across from the cafe,' Clint said, leaning against the passenger door and grinning down at Steve.  
  
'Hello, Clint,' Steve said, keeping a poker face with great effort. 'How have you been? I've been well, not much new since the last time we spoke. This is Tony.'  
  
'Have you been hiding behind that tree _waiting _for us to pull up?' Tony demanded, sounding half impressed, half scandalised.__  
  
'Pfft,' Clint smirked and jerked a thumb at Steve. 'Still got the code for his Lo Jack. And I got a book to run on the outcome of this little adventure in ill-advised nostalgia.'  
  
Tony studied Clint, head cocked and expression blank.  
  
'Erm,' Steve pushed Clint away from the door and got out. 'Why don't-'  
  
'Two hundred says I get at least to her place,' Tony grinned, extending a hand. 'Five hundred says a kiss.'  
  
Clint whistled. 'Cocky bastard, aren't you?'  
  
'I try to bring my best game to away games,' Tony wiggled his fingers expectantly. 'You taking this action or not?'  
  
Clint made a show of looking Tony and his car over. 'Normally I'd feel bad about taking your money, but it looks like you can wear the loss,' he shook. 'Two and five, you got it.'  
  
'So you told her to meet me here?' Tony climbed out of the car, adjusting his sunglasses.  
  
' _Hell _to the no,' Clint grinned wider. 'I hacked her assistant's calendar and put a meeting with a person of interest down. No way I'm letting the book be skewed by her getting warned.'__  
  
'Warned that you have too much time on your hands and decided to interfere with my schedule?' Maria seemed to appear from thin air, and all three men jumped. 'Barton, did you really think you'd be able to pull one over on me?'  
  
'I... er,' Clint took a step away from her.  
  
'Hello, Tony,' Maria turned a stern gaze on him. 'I thought I made it clear if I saw you, I'd stab you again?'  
  
' _Again _?' Steve moved between the two of them.__  
  
'Maria, baby-doll,' Tony ducked around Steve to seize her hands. To the surprise of all, she let him. 'How've you been? Still striking terror into folk everywhere, I see.'  
  
Maria's mouth twitched in a sort of proto-smile. 'Always, Stark. What brings you to my door?'  
  
Tony glanced at Clint and Steve, then turned his most charming smile on Maria. 'Why don't we grab a coffee while we talk. I'm sure Clint and Steve have lots to catch up on too.'  
  
Maria was silent for a moment, then she huffed a laugh. 'Sure, Stark. And Barton?'  
  
Clint froze.  
  
'Don't think I've forgotten. I want you in the archives next week, helping Sam audit.'  
  
'Aww, man!'  
  
Tony offered Maria his arm, and they walked across the road to the cafe.  
  
'Not how you expected?' Steve patted Clint on the shoulder. 'He's a bit of a force of nature.'  
  
Clint's shoulders slumped. 'I don't even get it. The last guy who tried to grab her hand wound up in Emergency.'  
  
Steve noticed Clint rubbing at his left hand absently. 'Clint. Was that guy you, by any chance?'  
  
'It was the office Christmas party, OK?' he folded his arms and glared at the cafe. 'I thought it was funny until Phil stopped speaking to me for a week.'  
  
Across the road, Tony and Maria were settled in at a table. Steve nudged Clint with his elbow and started walking. 'Let's get some coffee of our own. Who's Phil?'  
  
Clint got a little shifty-eyed. 'Phil's my handler. There's one of those hippy free trade organic everything bullshit places you love just round the corner.'  
  
'Uh huh,' Steve kept pace as Clint strode away. 'Your 'handler', is he?'  
  
Clint whirled around, slamming a hand over Steve's mouth. 'Shhh! Yes, he is. And doing anything extracurricular breaks about seven different office policies, and we're _Feds _!'__  
  
Steve peeled Clint's hand away. 'Sorry. Let me tell you about my crashing and burning with Peggy's niece to make it up to you?'  
  
'Man, Peggy was smokin',' Clint relaxed, and led the way to the coffee shop. 'How'd you ever pin her down?'  
  
'I didn't,' Steve smiled. 'She sure was something, wasn't she?'  
  
'Wait, back up,' Clint paused in the doorway. 'Peggy's _niece _?'__  
  
'Her _adult _niece,' Steve said hurriedly, feeling his face flame. 'By her much older brother. Get out of the door, Clint, people are trying to leave.'__  
  
Clint stepped aside to let a few women out onto the street, then dragged Steve inside.  
  
'Whatever age she was,' he said after ordering for both of them and finding a table. 'Why were you dating Peggy's niece? No offence, man, but it's a little twisted.'  
  
'After-' Steve started, but he couldn't make himself say the words. 'After, Peggy shipped back to the UK and I got shipped home for the ceremony-'  
  
'And medical treatment,' Clint interjected.  
  
'And medical treatment,' Steve acknowledged with a wave. 'She wouldn't return my emails, and I ran into this girl when I was running in the Park. I didn't realise for ages that she was Peggy's niece, and when I did I couldn't really deal with it. They're so similar, you know? Sharon's like a blonde Peggy, all fierce drive and determination.'  
  
A multiply-pierced skinny girl set their coffees in front of them, grinning at Clint before slipping back behind the counter.  
  
'Oh,' Steve smirked as Clint's eyes followed the girl. 'Those hippy places _I _like?'__  
  
Clint laughed and shrugged. 'You ever get in contact with Peggy again?'  
  
Steve studied his coffee. Not as good as Jarvis's had gotten. 'Yeah,' he sighed. 'She and Bucky got married.'  
  
'Ouch,' Clint pulled a face. 'That's pretty cold, best friend stealing your girl.'  
  
'Oh,' Steve blinked at him. 'It was all one-sided with Peggy and me. I adored her, but she just saw me as a friend. I'm glad she's happy. Even gladder she's safe.'  
  
Clint looked sceptical, but didn't say anything.  
  
'So, anyway,' Steve looked out the window. 'I broke it off with Sharon, started hiding in Tony's apartment when she came around, and got roped in for this scheme of his.'  
  
'You are the _worst _at telling stories,' Clint mock glared. 'I swear to god. You're saying you accidentally dated your not-girlfriend's niece, freaked out about it, then started avoiding her without an explanation, yeah?'__  
  
Steve hid his face in his coffee. 'Maybe.'  
  
Clint laughed. 'You're ridiculous, Rogers.'

****

'What is this about?' Maria asked as soon as the waitress had taken their order. 'I warn you, I am not helping you cover up a crime.'  
  
Tony threw his hands up. 'Why does everyone think I'm a criminal?'  
  
Maria folded her hands on the table. 'Could it be the history of criminal behaviours?'  
  
Tony made an undignified noise. 'Teenage high spirits don't count.'  
  
'Teenage high spirits stops being a legitimate explanation when you turn twenty, Tony,' Maria shook her head. 'Let alone thirty. I remember that story in the papers about your birthday... event.'  
  
'No charges ever brought,' Tony waved the topic away. 'Have you heard Pepper's getting married?'  
  
'The whole hemisphere's heard that,' Maria nodded at the waitress as she set their coffees down. 'Tell me you aren't here to ask me to the wedding.'  
  
'I, er...' Tony downed his espresso in one shot. 'That is...'  
  
'Tony,' Maria closed her eyes. 'The last time I saw you, I _stabbed _you, and you want me to go to a wedding with you?'__  
  
'It was just with a shrimp fork,' Tony muttered. 'Hardly even scarred. I don't hold it against you.'  
  
Maria's lips twisted again. 'I don't think I ever thanked you for not pressing charges.'  
  
'Oh, pfft,' Tony fiddled with the sugar packets. 'You only rated a three on the damage-inflicted-by-girl-slash-boyfriends scale. I take it that's a no for Pep's wedding?'  
  
'As it happens, not exactly,' Maria sipped her latte. 'I will agree to be your emergency backup date with one week's notice should you fail to find someone before that. But you should keep looking, cuz no matter how blasé you are, I don't know that Pepper's ever forgiven me for the forking.'  
  
Tony frowned, considering. 'Yeah, that might not go down too well.'  
  
They sat in friendly silence while Maria finished her latte, and Tony worked his way through three more espressos. When she was done, Tony threw some money on the table and they wandered back to his car.  
  
'Hey, you wanna screw Barton out of five hundred bucks?'  
  
Maria turned. 'I'm listening.'


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of Terminator, and descriptions of a hotel I've never seen except on their own website.

'Do I need to get Pepper involved to make the kidnapping charges vanish?'  
  
Steve turned from watching Clint and Tony fleecing people at pool to find Rhodey smiling at him.  
  
'Hello,' Steve slid over to make room in the booth. 'Tony was going to ambush you at the office tomorrow, from what I could tell.'  
  
Rhodey laughed, then turned a curious glance at the pool table. 'Who's Tony's friend? I thought he was staying away from fresh meat.'  
  
'Oh, no,' Steve cleared his throat. 'That's my friend who's helping find the list. We did Maria Hill today.'  
  
Rhodey raised an eyebrow, and Steve thought back over what he'd said and blushed.  
  
'I don't see any blood or bandages,' Rhodey slid onto the bench, and made a show of studying Tony. 'You're sure you had the right gal?'  
  
'So Tony said,' Steve shook his head as Tony and Clint staged a brief fencing match with the pool cues. 'It was... it seemed to go well.'  
  
' _Really _?'__  
  
Rhodey turned all his attention on Steve, so Steve related the story, finishing awkwardly with 'So when we got back, Tony grinned at us and dipped her in the middle of the street, and Clint walked into a lamp post while they were... kissing. Then she went back to the office, so I don't know whether it was a success or not.'  
  
Rhodey closed his eyes. 'I don't know whether it's good or bad he didn't wind up in the ER again. If he takes her to the wedding, Pep'll pitch a fit.'  
  
'She said she...' Steve frowned into his beer. 'Did she really stab him?'  
  
'O-ho-ho, _yeah _,' Rhodey patted Steve on the shoulder. 'But only with a fork, which puts her above at least three other partners he's had. You want a refill?'__  
  
Steve half smiled, making a concious decision not to think about what might have trumped stabbing. 'Thanks. You need help?'  
  
'Nah,' Rhodey reached past Steve to grab Tony's discarded jacket and fished his wallet out. 'What's your friend drinking?'  
  
Steve shrugged. 'Clint drinks whatever's around and unguarded.'  
  
'God, what are they,' Rhodey grinned. 'Twins? Back in a moment.'  
  
Clint and Tony seemed to have exhausted the bar's supply of suckers, now playing against each other. A table of girls had started hooting whenever either of them bent over to take a shot. Clint being Clint, he'd shimmy and grin. Tony seemed just to hold the pose for a few moments longer than necessary.  
  
'What is my life,' Steve muttered into the last of his beer, not quite managing to stifle a grin.

****

About half an hour later, Steve noticed a man in a grey suit staring at Tony. He had such a studied air of blandness that Steve's hackles went up. The man stepped past the hooting girls, and Steve tensed.  
  
'What is it?' Rhodey turned to follow Steve's gaze, then scrambled out of the booth and ran over to intercept. Alarmed, Steve followed.  
  
'Agent Taserpants!' Tony was saying, taking a half step back. 'I'd say what a pleasure, but-'  
  
'Coulson,' Rhodey slid between Tony and the man. 'I'm sure someone at SI would be more than happy to talk with you about your contracts, but Tony's taking a leave of absence at the moment.'  
  
Steve stepped up to Tony's back, resting a hand on his shoulder half for reassurance, half so he already had a grip to haul Tony away if he needed.  
  
'Captain Rhodes,' Coulson turned. 'Mr Stark. While I am delighted to hear that I will be meeting with someone other than yourself on Tuesday, I'm actually here for him,' he jerked his head towards Clint, who was leaning against the girls' table, chatting. He froze in place as they watched, swivelled in place, and broke into a huge grin.  
  
'Phil!' he called, jogging over. 'What're you doing-'  
  
'Wait,' Tony frowned at Steve, then Clint and Coulson, and back to Steve. 'I thought you said he worked for the fibbies?'  
  
Steve blinked. 'That's what Clint told me- hey!'  
  
Coulson had seized Tony by the elbow and dragged him into a secluded corner between one breath and the next. Steve went to storm after them, but Rhodey and Clint grabbed his shoulders.  
  
'He won't hurt Tony,' Rhodey was saying, belying the assurance by watching the two of them closely.  
  
'Not much, anyway,' Clint added. 'Uh, you'll probably have to sign an NDA when Phil comes back.'  
  
Steve glared down at him. 'What could I disclose? I don't _know _anything.'__  
  
Clint shrugged, heading back to the booth. 'Protocol. Who's got Tony's wallet? I'm gonna get Phil the biggest, froufiest girl drink they serve for not telling me he was working with Stark. You guys want anything?'  
  
Rhodey passed the wallet over. 'Same again. Get Tony a coke for outing you. He hates cherry.'  
  
Steve shook his head. 'I'm good.'  
  
Steve stared at Coulson and Tony's figures, tracking Tony's expansive gesticulating and frowning at Coulson's stillness. He wasn't quite willing to trust Rhodey and Clint's assessment of the risk. No one was that unremarkable while moving like that without being very dangerous. After a few more gestures, the two of them headed towards Steve and Rhodey. Tony, Steve was pleased to see, kept Coulson more than an arm's length away and a step in front the whole way.  
  
'Tell me Clint's at the bar,' Tony climbed over Steve to claim the back wall. 'I do _not _want to hear he's skipped out and left me to his jackal.'__  
  
'Don't be absurd, Stark,' Coulson smirked. 'Clint's _my _jackal.'__  
  
Tony made an appalled noise, and collapsed against Steve. Steve shifted to accommodate his weight, and stared across the table at Coulson.  
  
'Hello,' he said, not extending his hand. 'I'm-'  
  
'Captain Steve Rogers, formerly of the 107th,' Coulson nodded. 'It's an honour. My name's Phil Coulson.'  
  
'Clint's handler, and not FBI,' Steve studied him. 'Am I really going to have to sign an NDA for knowing that, or was Clint kidding?'  
  
Coulson looked thoughtful. 'I don't see that it's necessary,' he said at length. 'But I'll keep you posted.'  
  
'Drinks!' Clint slid the tray onto the table. 'Beer for Rhodey, coke for Stark-'  
  
'What?' Tony straightened.  
  
'-and matching Glory Holes for me and Phil,' he finished, placing a luminously purple, multiply- umbrella'd monstrosity with a plastic monkey dangling from the glass in front of Coulson. 'It's got six types of liquor in it,' he added proudly.  
  
Coulson stood to let Clint into the booth, then wordlessly took his drink.

****

'Seriously?' Clint draped himself over Tony's shoulder, squinting at the smart phone's screen. 'You went twelve-for-twelve with the Maxim covers?'  
  
Tony grinned at him. 'Two years running, baby.'  
  
'Huh,' Clint reached down to enlarge the display. 'Is that the same Tiberius Stone who owns the internet?'  
  
'Please,' Tony flapped a hand. 'He owns maybe 40% of the media on this coast.'  
  
'Well, you know where to find him already,' Clint nudged Tony.  
  
'Yeah,' Rhodey growled. 'At the other end of the knife in his back.'  
  
'Sour patch,' Tony smiled at Rhodey. 'Go dance. That gal in the bustier's been staring at you for ten minutes.'  
  
Rhodey blinked and turned. The gal in question beckoned him, winking lasciviously, and Rhodey went.  
  
'Good boy,' Tony grinned, then turned back to Clint. 'Ty's not in the running for the grand prize. I put together everything I could remember about these five,' he slid a new document open. 'Where do I send it?'  
  
Clint took the phone, tapped in an email address, and gave it back. 'I'll work my magic tomorrow, now pretend we're plotting; I see Phil coming back.'  
  
'Why do we need to pretend?' Tony complained. 'Can't you multi task? I could build you a robot target! Steve said you were a sniper? You want an artificially intelligent target dummy?'  
  
'I know you're yanking my chain,' Coulson said as he sat down. 'But if you never do anything else for me, _please _do not build Skynet and make it play with Clint.'__  
  
'Why is everyone so sure I'll start the robopocalypse?' Tony asked the ceiling. 'If everyone's going to be cruel, I think I'm going to go to bed.'  
  
'Oh,' Clint snapped his fingers. 'I told Steve already, but I have a couch and a probably-intact blow up mattress if you kids want.'  
  
'Nah,' Tony patted Clint's knee just to see Coulson's eyes narrow. 'But thanks for the offer, baby. Now, where'd Steve get to?'  
  
'Pinned down by the kitchen,' Clint pointed. 'She's persistent, I'll give her that.'  
  
Tony looked over to See Steve backed against the wall by the kitchen door, a young woman in a backless top pressing against him. Steve glanced up, hilariously terrified expression shifting to a furious blush as he caught the table staring at him.  
  
'I suppose that's my cue,' Tony sauntered over, peeled the girl off Steve, and took her place. Steve's hands came up to bracket his hips, seemingly reflexively. Tony shot a flirtatious look through his eyelashes. 'Honey-bunch, I think it's time for bed.'  
  
Steve's blush deepened, his fingers tightening their grip for a moment, and the girl made a drunken noise of understanding behind them.  
  
'Sorry, darlin',' she patted Tony's shoulder, and he turned to smile at her. 'I didn't realise. Have a nice night.'  
  
She wandered off, and Tony stepped back. 'You want Clint's couch, or a real hotel room?'  
  
'I... um...' Steve looked like he was about to stroke out, Tony squinted at him.  
  
'You _did _want a rescue just then, didn't you?' he checked.__  
  
'Yes,' Steve shook himself. 'Thank you.'  
  
'OK,' Tony stared at him for a moment, but the blush settled down. 'So I'm heading off. You want to stay, or I can get you a room at the Fairfax?'  
  
Steve was staring at him now, a slight frown creasing his forehead. Tony raised his eyebrows, tilting his head, and Steve blinked.  
  
'Uh, I'll come with you,' he said eventually. 'I'll just go say bye to Clint.'  
  
Tony let Steve brush past him. That had been weird.  
  
'OK,' Steve appeared again. 'Ready?'  
  
Tony flicked a salute in Rhodey's general direction (Rhodey had known him long enough not to take offence at being abandoned to beautiful women), and led the way back to the car.

****

'Tony...' Steve stared at the wood panelling. 'Isn't there somewhere a bit less...' he groped for a suitable adjective, but had to give up. 'Less? I'm not dressed for somewhere like this.'  
  
'Nonsense,' Tony headed for the check in desk, only to be intercepted by the concierge.  
  
'Mr Stark!' she said, smiling wide. 'What a pleasure to see you again. Your usual room will be ready very shortly. Would you and your companion care to wait in the bar?'  
  
'Gina,' Tony leant in to kiss her cheek. 'Any chance of making that two rooms?'  
  
Gina frowned. 'Not on the same floor, I'm afraid,' she shook her head. 'But we can certainly arrange something.'  
  
'You needn't bother,' Steve interrupted, feeling himself go pale at the idea of Tony spending God knew how much on an extra room. 'I don't need a room, unless you want privacy?'  
  
  
Tony blinked at him, and shrugged. 'All right. To the bar, then?'  
  
Gina escorted them to a luxurious, oak-panelled bar area, then drifted away. Steve shifted uncomfortably.  
  
'Tony, this is a bit extravagant,' he glanced around. 'I can go back to Clint's; he offered.'  
  
Tony ignored him, ordering whiskey for both of them when the waiter appeared. Clearly, Steve's objections were not going to have any effect, so he reluctantly gave in. It was a _very _nice hotel.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh heh heh, the thing about fencing with pool cues? I did that with my sister's then-boyfriend in a bar in Kings Cross (Sydney), and he got tackled to the ground by two 350lb Samoan bouncers while I propped myself up with the pool cue and tried to contain my hysterical laughter, so I don't recommend it IRL.
> 
> I don't _think _Glory Hole is a real drink, but you never know ;P__
> 
> And EDIT: to change Steve's battalion, because apparently I wasn't listening to the boys' actual _words _when I watched Captain America #facepalm__


	10. Chapter 10

They didn't make it back to New York until Sunday evening in the end, but Steve found he couldn't mind the delay. He and Tony parted ways in the hall, and Steve had to sigh at how shabby his apartment looked after five days in ludicrous opulence. He toed his shoes off, and collapsed onto a mattress that now seemed lumpy, and went straight to sleep.

****  
Steve didn't see Tony for more than a week after they got back, though intermittent crashing sounds coming from his apartment signalled his presence. Feeling a little awkward about encroaching on Tony's time and space now that Sharon had cleared herself out of Steve's life, he probably would have let himself drift out of Tony's orbit if his bank statement hadn't turned up.

'Why the heck,' he shouted, slamming Tony's door open, unlocked since the open invitation apparently still stood. 'Is there suddenly a quarter million in my checking account?!'

Tony glanced up from the scattered parts of what looked like at least five computers surrounding him. 'Hmm? Oh, I decided a finder's fee was in order.'

Steve's hand clenched around the statement. 'How,' he ground out. 'Did you get my bank details? I _had _planned on refusing such a ridiculous overpayment.'__

'Jarvis needed practice hacking, so he found your bank,' Tony frowned at him. 'Why would you want to do that?'

Steve gaped. 'Oh my God, Tony! You-!'

'What?' Tony startled. 'What'd I do?'

Steve forced himself to take a few breaths. 'Tony. That was a gross invasion of privacy, and you can't just throw money at me.'

'Wait,' Tony frowned up at him. 'Is that a _paper _statement? Do they even still _do _those?'____

'Clearly they do,' Steve glared. 'And I was going to refuse such a ridiculous sum because it's about twenty times what the damn thing is worth!'

'It's what it's worth to _me _,' Tony gave a jerky wave. 'If it bothers you that much, donate it to the animal shelter or something.__

Steve could feel a growl rising in his throat, and something must've shown on his face, because Tony glanced at him, then jumped to his feet.

'But,' he frowned again, this one obviously self-directed. 'You're right. It was hugely inappropriate to hack your bank, and I'm sorry,' he flashed a grin at Steve. 'I've never been good at telling appropriate. It's what I have Pep and Rhodey for.'

Steve ruthlessly squashed the flare of envy at the fond tone, and dropped onto the couch. 'So long as it doesn't happen again,' he said, fully aware that he was giving in too easily.

Tony blinked, clearly having expected more yelling, then settled back into his nest of electronics. 'I got the worst-punctuated email from Clint.'

 

'Rhodey told me all about your aversion to the shift key,' Steve smiled at the back of Tony's head. 'I'm not sure how bad it'd have to be to get you to notice.'

'Please,' Tony scoffed. 'It's eccentricity when _I _do it. It's an indictment on our schools when it's Clint.'__

'I'm telling him you said that.'

'I already did,' Tony twisted a few wires together idly. 'Anyway, my point was that he tracked Wanda down to some commune near Salem. You up for another road trip?'

It would be a terrible idea, Steve told himself. He'd never been masochistic before, and watching - _helping _\- Tony connect with his exes...__

'Sure,' he found himself saying. 'But can we leave tomorrow? I wanted to go out tonight.'

'Oh yeah?' Tony twisted. 'Where? I know the best-worst bar in the village, I'll introduce you to the owner!'

'Uh, OK?' Steve shrugged, then winced. 'Wait, is the owner on your list?'

'Yeah,' Tony abandoned whatever it was he was doing, and leant against Steve's shins. 'He gave me the idea, actually. Oh! And you can protect me from Erik! Excellent.'

'Who's Erik?' Steve let his fingers wander into Tony's hair.

Tony purred like a cat. 'Charles's boyfriend. Has about a million teeth and hated me on sight.'

Steve, getting to understand a little about Tony's life by now, asked 'What were you doing the first time he saw you?'

Tony mumbled something, rolling his head back to rest on Steve's knee.

'Sorry,' Steve said sweetly. 'Didn't catch that.'

'Planted one on his boyfriend,' Tony blushed.

Steve sighed. 

****

'Tony!' the short man propping the bar up turned a megawatt smile on them. 'Who's your friend?'

'Charles,' Tony grinned, and Steve caught an aborted move to lean closer. 'This is my neighbour, Steve. He's helping me with the list,' he turned to the barman. 'Hello, Erik. Note the lack of anything untoward, and please refrain from attempts on my life in company.'

Steve noted the twitch of the barman's lip, and thrust his hand out. 'Hello, nice to meet you.'

Erik's gaze trailed from Steve's hand along his arm to his face, and back again. 'Brought a bodyguard, this time, Stark?'

Charles threw his head back and laughed. 'Sounds like a good idea after last time; did he put you on a retainer, Steve?'

'I thought you wanted to be kept in the loop,' Tony sniffed, clearly faking offence. 'I was going to give you an update on progress, but if you're going to be like this-'

'Oh, shut up,' Charles said fondly, settling a hand on Tony's shoulder. 'Laphroaig, this time?'

Erik handed over a bottle, and Charles led them to a booth. It was, Steve noted, the one on which the bar had the clearest line of sight. Tony looked back at Erik and pointedly slid in the seat next to Charles. Steve resisted the urge to cover his face, and sat opposite them.

 

****

'Wait,' Charles scrolled up and down the screen a few times. 'You're missing some names.'

Tony stretched, snagging the half-empty bottle almost-casually from in front of Steve. 'Like who?'

'Well,' Charles grabbed Tony's wrist as he went to take a pull and redirected the bottle to his own mouth. 'Logan, for one.'

'Everyone's ridden that pony,' Tony half turned to protect the bottle from fresh attacks. 'I think he must Lysol himself and every surface in his place weekly. 'S the only explanation for how he isn't _riddled _.'__

'Mmm,' Charles got a faraway look, reminiscing about Logan, Tony assumed. He edged a little further away, angling to hide Charles's expression from Erik, but probably failing.

'Do we have to have words?' Erik said from, Jesus, _right _behind Tony's head.__

'Gah!' Tony flailed, almost clocking Charles with the bottle. 'God dammit, Erik, don't you have customers to look after?!'

Erik sniffed. 'I don't know why they keep haranguing me. There have to be bars where their puerile flirting gets them results.'

Tony glanced around. There was a group of skinny kids in stovepipe jeans and oversized plastic glasses staring soulfully at Erik's ass. Leaning to one side to scope it out himself, he couldn't really blame them.

'He's taken, too,' Charles reminded him with a light slap. 'And Erik, you're just so hot when you're cruel. Let the twinkies delude themselves.'

Erik rolled his eyes, and vanished back towards the bar.

Across the table, Steve was looking a little uncomfortable, so Tony pushed the bottle toward him. 'Drink up, Rogers. You're falling behind.'

Steve took the whiskey, and Tony turned back to Charles. 'You said names plural.'

'You're missing Hank, and that bipolar chemistry guy who broke your collarbone-'

'So,' Tony interrupted before Steve could make a fuss about that. 'Not someone likely to make the short list? Wait, Hank who?'

Charles squinted in thought. 'McCoy and Pym.'

Tony thought back quickly, mouthing the two names until he got faces to match. 'OK, yeah, I'll give you McCoy,' he twisted his mouth in consternation. 'But I never slept with Pym. Mrs Pym-to-be, sure, but not the husband.'

'Sure you did,' Charles kicked Tony in the ankle. 'Although, it _was _pledge week, and you'd been trying out your 'improved' still. He was so paranoid about doing the walk of shame he climbed out the window and sprained his knee landing in the bushes.'__

'So _that's _why he couldn't look me in the face that term,' Tony saluted Charles with the bottle. 'The more you know.'__

'Also why he was so uncomfortable with you speaking at their wedding,' Charles grinned. 'Bride and groom terrified you'd start detailing your sordid experiences to the whole room.'

Tony, who had no memory of the wedding, felt his face flush. 'Shut up. I have _some _sense of propriety.'__

Charles almost choked laughing at that, and Tony jabbed an elbow at him petulantly.

'And why,' Charles gasped when he’d mostly caught his breath. 'Isn't Rhodey's name on here?'

'Because I never slept with Rhodey,' Tony rolled his eyes. Steve twitched, for some reason, and Tony opened his mouth to ask, but Charles broke in first.

'How have you never slept with Rhodey?' he sounded honestly confused. 'You guys were always running off together.'

'He's straight,' Tony shook his head. 'And way too smart to get mixed up with me if he wasn't.'

Charles studied him for a while, concerned and mildly disbelieving. 'If you say so.'

'I do,' Tony picked up the bottle. 'And I'm never wrong.'


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a bad idea to drink what Erik gives you, but Tony's all about bad decisions. Also, is someone stalking Steve? *gasp*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like the chapters might be big ones from here on in...
> 
> EDIT: And my failboaty Google-translated German has been fixed by the wonderful ChickenHax! Whoo!

'Oh, for-' Charles shoved at Tony until he stumbled out of the way, and took off at a run to a kid who looked about twelve lurking near the table by the stage.

'He looks a little young for you, Charlie!' Tony called after him, loudly enough that the kid looked over and turned bright pink.

Grinning, Tony straightened his shirt. 'You got preferences for the next round?'

Steve made an indistinct noise, failing miserably at pretending to pay attention as he kept an eye on Charles and the kid. Tony rolled his eyes.

'Fine, but if you have issues with tequila, tell me now,' he paused a moment. 'No? OK, but if you spend the early hours declaring your love to a lamp post or a policeman, you don't get to blame me.'

'Huh?' Steve turned towards Tony, blinking, but Tony had already leapt for the bar.

'What top shelf tequilas you got behind there, Erik?' he leaned across the bar, trying to catch a peek. Erik flicked him with his dish towel. 'Ow! Jesus, that's gonna leave a welt!'

'Mm-hmm,' Erik looked smug. 'How much you willing to pay?'

Intrigued, Tony's eyes lit up. 'That sounds promising.'

Erik's lips quirked in the not-smile that was the best everyone other than Charles could hope for, and he squatted to rummage around.

Eyebrows trying valiantly for his hairline, Tony arched his neck to try and catch a glimpse of whatever Erik was searching for.

'Here,' Erik straightened, face carefully blanked once again, and held out an extremely dusty squat bottle.

'There's no label,' Tony said, intrigued as he turned the bottle around and around.

Erik leaned his forearms on the bar, doing an exaggerated check for eavesdroppers, and beckoned Tony closer.

Knowing it was a reckless decision, Tony leant in, cocking his head hopefully.

'My own personal recipe,' Erik twitched an eyebrow. 'Don't let Charles have more than a few glasses; it leaves him... in a strange mood.'

Tony bent over the bottle, utterly charmed. 'Have you given me the _drugged _product of an illegal still? You are my _favourite _psychotic bartender _ever _!'______

Erik snorted and moved back down the bar to glare at the enamoured hipsters lounging around.

'Did he just give you a bottle of his _own _mescal?' Charles propped himself on the bar next to Tony, picking up the bottle wonderingly. 'I _knew _he liked you, really!'____

'Why so furious about the kid?' Tony headed back towards Steve as Charles grabbed three glasses. 'You and I were haunting bars at whatever age he is.'

'Oh, he's old enough to be in here. Just. But,' Charles cracked the seal and sniffed. 'Mmm... wonderful. But he violates my No Photographers policy.'

'Why do you have a no photographing policy in a bar?' Steve reached over to snag the bottle. 'Is this legal? There's no label.'

'Hush up, Jiminy,' Tony slid a glass towards Steve. 'It's Erik's own personal distillation, and it's perfectly legal to give your friends alcohol you made.'

'Actually...' Charles grinned. 'Never mind. And No Photographers is a privacy thing necessary because of people like Tony. Poor Peter,' he sighed. 'Little lamb always looks so heartbroken when I catch him. I think his editor yells at him a lot.'

'Do _not _start sympathising with a paparazzo,' Tony shook a finger in Charles's face. 'It's just an act to get your guard down.'__

'Oh,' Charles winked at Steve, and poured three very generous shots. 'I know. Kid has a mouth on him like you wouldn't believe. You'd like him, Tony. Socially, I mean.'

Tony raised his eyebrows and his glass. 'To mouthy reporters. Long may they plague Charles!'

They clinked glasses, and drank.

****  
'Oh, Cthulhu, take me now,' Tony groaned into someone's shoulder.

The someone, warm and comfortable and male, made a distressed sound in response, and Tony felt the hand on his hip tighten.

'Whatever it was Erik put in that mescal,' he muttered, thinking _peyote _. 'Is almost certainly going to show up on the next three drug tests Dad springs on me.'__

He levered himself upright with a great effort, and found himself staring down at Steve's face. They'd clearly made it as far as Tony's living room, though God only knew how, and one of the couch cushions was lying on the floor beneath Steve's head.

'Huh,' Tony looked at himself, then Steve. Both still dressed, so nothing to worry about there.

'Good morning, sir,' Jarvis's voice piped from the stereo speaker, about five decibels louder than Tony would've preferred. 'Can I prepare anything for you?'

'Dial it down a notch, yeah?'

'Error,' Jarvis's original, robotic voice blurted. 'Command not recognised.'

Tony sighed. 'Still a little buggy, huh? Jarvis, volume down. And coffee. Very strong coffee.'

Jarvis hummed, and Tony lay back, wondering what sort of idiomatic dictionary he'd have to program-

'Wait, I _gave _you access to the internet. How could you sift through that without understanding slang?'__

'Was it humorous, sir?' Jarvis's voice, at a more reasonable volume, came through the TV. 'From my research into humour, it seems that intentional misunderstandings are quite popular as a comedic tool.'

'Did you accidentally program your coffee maker to be a prankster?' Steve groaned, voice husky from whatever it was they'd wound up doing last night. Tony was fairly confident he'd remember in time, or there was always Charles's bar's security footage.

'Uh, seems like?' he shifted a little away from Steve, missing the warmth already.

'Morning, boys!'

Tony jumped about a foot as Charles sauntered out of Tony's bedroom, wearing Tony's dressing gown (though not for the first time, Tony reminded himself), and looking sickeningly un-hungover.

'What,' Tony rubbed at his chest over where he vaguely remembered being told his heart was. 'In the name of God and little fishes are you doing in my apartment, Charles? Don't you have one of your own to go to?'

'You were very insistent he come over to 'marvel at your genius',' Erik appeared, wrapping himself around Charles. 'But you passed out on Steve there before you could expand.'

'Well,' Tony smirked. 'He _is _a work of genius.'__

'My blushes, sir,' Jarvis chimed in from the doorbell. If Tony guessed right, he'd say it was because the speaker was directly behind Erik. If so, it was a fantastic choice. Erik spun, knocking a startled Charles to the floor, hand coming up for a choke hold before Jarvis had finished. His face, as he blinked at the absence of attackers was priceless.

'You enabled the cameras there yet, Jarvis?' Tony called, not even trying to hide his grin.

'I have two angles of footage being uploaded to your server now, sir.'

' _Good _boy,' Tony shuffled forward to give Charles a hand up. 'Welcome to the house of the future!'__

'Oh good lord,' Steve threw a hand over his eyes. 'You made a British Mini Me. Jarvis, you're better than this.'

'Thank you, Captain,' Jarvis replied from somewhere in the ceiling. Tony didn't remember installing separate speakers there, but as always there were a few days here and there where his recall was... sketchy. 'The coffee is now prepared, sir, though you are out of half and half.'

'Charles can suck it up,' Tony replied cheerfully. 'For taking my bed and sullying it with man juices.'

'Jealous, much?' Charles shot a glance towards where Steve remained on the floor, but Tony couldn't see why. 'Hey, did you program your house with how I take my coffee?'

'Of course,' Tony most assuredly had _not _. 'How else would he know?'__

****

 

Of course, as soon as Tony was feeling sufficiently caffeinated to deal with his life, the apartment door opened to let Pepper in, devastating in Jil Sander and Manolos with just a smattering of Gucci for highlights.

'Tony,' she said, placing her handbag on a table pretty much reserved for that very use. 'I was talking to your mother-'

She stopped, eyes flicking from Charles and Erik's state of undress to where Steve was _still _spread-eagled on the floor and back to Tony.__

'Morning, Pep,' Tony got up, smiling. 'You're looking-'

Pepper turned and stalked into his bedroom, and Charles hid his grin in his cup.

'Oh, shut up,' Tony sighed, and followed her.

' _Please _,' Pepper ground out as soon as Tony shut the door. 'Please tell me you didn't have an orgy with Charles again. This is pretty much the opposite of what you agreed to, incidentally.'__

Tony threw his hands up. 'I did not have an orgy!'

There was a noise from the other room, either Charles losing it laughing, or Steve freaking out. Tony sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

'All right,' Pepper wrinkled her nose at the unmade bed. 'I believe y-' she frowned. 'Where is the Monet?'

Tony glanced around. 'I've been meaning to give it to you,' he glanced behind the wardrobe, but found nothing but dust bunnies. 'You always had a better eye for that stuff than I did.'

Pepper was studying Steve's painting when he turned back. She glanced over her shoulder at him. 'You didn't do too badly finding this. Who is it?'

'Ah,' Tony threw himself onto his bed, jerking a thumb in Steve's general direction. 'The blond on the floor out there did it. Pretty good, huh?'

Pepper stared at him, expression thoughtful. After just long enough for Tony to get fidgety, she clapped her hands. 'I'm taking you to lunch.'

'I thought you had rules about abandoning house guests,' Tony observed, already rolling up to flick through his suits for a suitably louche one. He couldn't let Pepper be seen with him dressed up, after all. The paparazzi would go nuts with him trying to win her back. 'But if I'm rubbing off on you-'

'It was plural 'you',' Pepper leaned past him and pulled out a blue-grey bespoke thing. Tony grabbed his AC-DC t shirt before she could find a shirt. They had a bit of a staring competition over it, then Pepper relented. 'Fine. Get dressed, and I'll introduce myself to your friends.'

When he emerged, five minutes with a face washer and a hasty shoving-on of clothing later, Charles and Pepper were seated on the reassembled couch, Erik was hovering behind them, and Steve was missing.

'He went home to change,' Pepper said without looking over. 'And I told Charles and Erik they could borrow something.'

'Sure,' Tony went to the kitchen for a fresh coffee. 'If Charles wants to play dress-up, he's welcome to. He'll look adorably five years old. Erik'll have better luck, I think.'

'Actually,' Charles patted Pepper's hand and brushed past Tony, heading into the bedroom. They could hear him rummaging, then 'Ha!'

'Ha what?' Tony craned to see.

Charles remained in there for a few minutes, then came out in a perfectly-fitting shimmery grey suit, matching Tony's style with an oversized Bon Jovi t shirt. 'Had to borrow a shirt,' Charles said, brushing one hand down his front. 'And it's a little flashy for daytime, but we'll make do.'

Erik growled, but it sounded more like a reflex this time than a real threat. Charles did a runway turn, and pouted at him.

'Is this OK?' Steve said from the doorway, brushing at his sports coat. 'I... why is the atmosphere charged again?'

'Go on, Erik,' Tony waved his coffee towards the bedroom. 'Go steal my most expensive suit in revenge.'

Erik muttered something very rude-sounding in German, turning to stalk into the bedroom. He made an awful racket with the coat hangers, and emerged in black Armani with Tony's favourite Iggy Pop shirt.

'To continue the style,' Erik smirked at Tony. The suit mostly fitted, though there was about an inch too much wrist and ankle showing.

'You look like Elwood Blues!' Tony crowed. 'Hang on, I think I've got the hat somewhere-'

Steve snagged his elbow as he tried to go past. 'Maybe not, hmm?'

'I do love that movie,' Erik said, smirking. 'Do you have the sunglasses too?'

Steve and Charles's mouths dropped open. Tony felt like his face would split with grinning. 'Gimme a minute.'

****

It was almost surreal, Steve thought as Pepper, Tony and Charles chattered with the owner of the cafe in Italian. Erik looked bizarrely smug to be dressed as a movie character to go for breakfast. He tipped the sunglasses down his nose to stare at Steve.

'Your painting in Tony's room is very fine work,' he said in German. 'I apologise.'

'How'd you know I speak German?' Steve replied. 'And apologise for what?'

'I saw your face when I insulted Tony this morning,' Erik shrugged. 'I apologise for insulting him in front of you.'

Steve folded his arms. 'You should apologise to him for insulting him at all.'

'Hey, hey, hey!' Tony nudged Steve with his elbow. 'Share with the class.'

'You started it,' Steve nodded to the little Italian lady, then smirked down at Tony. ' _Sprichst du etwa kein Deutsch? _'__

Tony pouted at him. 'Fine. Any allergies, preferences, et cetera? Good.'

Pepper murmured something to the owner, and she bustled towards the kitchen, shooting wide, motherly smiles back towards the table every few steps.

Charles shuffled his chair around to lean against Erik, who shifted automatically to accommodate him.

'Apologising to me for an insult to Tony is no good,' Steve continued in German.

'Hey, are you talking about me?' Tony glanced between Erik and Steve. 'Oh, come _on _.'__

Erik met Steve's stare, then bowed shallowly. 'Tony,' he said in English. 'I apologise for insulting you this morning.'

Tony cocked his head at Steve. 'Were you defending my honour?' he turned to Pepper. 'Pep! Steve defended my honour!'

Steve felt his face heat, but the arrival of the coffee distracted Tony from pursuing it further. When he looked up from Tony murmuring sweet nothings to his espresso, Pepper and Charles were frowning at him, and Erik was leaning back smirking. Steve hurriedly picked up his own coffee and his his face.

'So, Steve,' Pepper said eventually, having slid Charles's untouched espresso into Tony's reach. 'Have you been shown anywhere? You're really very promising.'

'Uh,' Steve shook his head. 'Really it's just a hobby. You wouldn't _believe _what Tony paid me for that painting.'__

Pepper grinned, and it made her look about fifteen years younger. 'Considering I was his PA for a few years, I'm well aware of Tony's extravagances.'

'It is a lovely work,' Charles piped up. 'Do you do commissions?'

'Er...' his face was probably beet red, Steve thought. 'That is...'

'Pepper curates the Stark Collection,' Tony looked up from his second empty cup to smile fondly at her. 'She's sweet, but she won't bullshit you about art.'

Pepper shook her head at Tony, and turned back to Steve. 'I mean it. I can put you in touch with some galleries that exhibit emerging artists if you'd like?'

'Oh, I couldn't,' Steve ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'It would be taking advantage.'

'They won't show you on my say-so,' she frowned at him. 'And if you truly don't want to, I won't push it, but the offer stands.'

Steve looked at the one amused and three expectant faces, and ducked his head. 'Thank you. I'll think about it?'

****

'So,' Tony leaned against his apartment door, hands shoved into his pants pockets. 'Salem tomorrow, then?'

Steve smiled at him, unlocking his own door. 'Sure, Tony. Knock when you're-'

'What?' Tony straightened as he saw Steve freeze. 'What's wrong?'

Steve pushed his door wide, and stepped in. 'Someone's been in here.'

'Well, then don't go in there!' Tony snapped, running across the hall to grab Steve's arm. 'Call the police! They could still be in there, for heaven's sake!'

Steve shook him off, padding silently across his living room, military background suddenly obvious. He half turned to make a 'go on' gesture to Tony.

'So come over to mine,' Tony said, pulling confused faces at Steve's back. 'We'll call the cops, and have some coffee-'

Steve dived into his bedroom, slamming what sounded like wardrobe doors open, then he appeared again. 'They're gone.'

Tony glanced around. 'Well, it's not ransacked. Why are you so sure there was someone here?'

Steve glanced around. 'Things have been moved. A few weeks ago, stuff started turning up in odd places, but I didn't think anything of it. But someone's definitely been here.'

'Well,' Tony took the opportunity to poke around again. 'You said you gave Sharon a key. Maybe she wanted her stuff; she did have stuff here, right?'

Steve hummed, unconvinced.

'OK, I'll install a camera in the hall,' Tony shrugged. 'And you're staying at mine tonight.'

Steve looked like he might protest, then his shoulders dropped. 'Thanks, Tony. I'll pack a bag for Salem while I'm here.'

****

It only took ten minutes to find and install a pinhole camera above Tony's apartment door, aimed at Steve's. As an afterthought, Tony scattered a few in Steve's apartment. No point knowing someone was in there if you didn't know what they were doing, after all.

The maid service had stripped his bed while they'd been at breakfast, but the living room was still a disaster, as they were under instructions never to touch anything Tony was working on. He shuffled the worst of it towards the walls, leaving a clear avenue for Steve to the couch, and settled in to continue upgrading Jarvis's hardware.

'Thank you,' Steve said again when he'd finished packing. 'I feel a little silly-'

'Don't be ridiculous,' Tony flapped a hand at him. 'Someone was _in your place _. God knows what for, so until we know who and why, you aren't staying there. Put your stuff in the bedroom, and come choose a movie.'__

There was an awkward silence that Tony resolutely ignored. Probably Steve was just having a manhood crisis about doing the sensible thing. After a moment, Steve dropped his bag inside the bedroom, and settled on the couch.

'So,' Tony wiggled an infra-red sensor at him. 'What're you in the mood for?'

Steve smiled at him, an odd expression on his face. 'You have the Princess Bride?'

'Where do you think you are?' Tony demanded, crawling to his DVD cabinet. 'Communist Russia? Of _course _I have the Princess Bride.'__


	12. Chapter 12

'Well,' Tony dropped onto the edge of the bed at seven the next morning. 'No one went in last night.'

He handed a mug of coffee to Steve when he wriggled upright, blinking and messy-haired.

'Thanks,' Steve said, and wow, apparently that sexy husky thing was his regular morning voice. Tony forcibly cut that thought off, and stared at Steve's painting instead.

'I thought we'd leave about lunchtime,' Tony sipped his own coffee. 'I called around, and there're plenty of spaces in hotels of varying fanciness. You pick which one you're comfortable with, and I'll book a couple of rooms.'

Steve shifted around, and Tony couldn't help but turn to watch him stretching. It wasn't anything creepy, Tony told himself. He just had an appreciation for the human form, and Steve was an _excellent _example of the human form.__

'You don't have to choose hotels differently just because of me,' Steve murmured, and Tony had to squash a shiver. _Not being creepy _, he reminded himself.__

'Nah,' he grinned at Steve. 'Gets dull staying in the same place over and over. You gimme an excuse for variety.'

Steve chuckled and shoved the blankets off.

****

The drive to Salem was very pleasant, especially with the top down. It was getting a little chilly, but the sun was still bright, and Steve had actually managed to sneak a few jazz CDs along. Tony gave him a piteous look when they swapped over after Hartford and Steve put on Duke, but 'Driver picks the music, Tony.'

'Urgh,' Tony pulled his beanie down to his ears. 'You're right.'

Steve grinned, and pulled away, whistling under his breath.

'You drive like my grandmother,' Tony groaned after about five miles. 'Seriously, I can wear the cost of a ticket. I could wear the cost of the _car _, come _on _.'____

Steve shot him a glance. 'You in a hurry, Stark?'

Tony blinked, frowned, and kicked his feet up on the dash. 'Just don't take us via Buffalo.'

Steve laughed. 'No promises.'

****

'I spy,' Tony said, toying with the remains of the sandwich he'd ill-advisedly bought at the truck stop. 'With my little eye, something beginning with 'R'.'

'Tony,' Steve's voice was admirably level for someone who'd just spent, Tony checked his watch, over thirteen hours in his company. 'If the answer is 'road', I _will _pull over and choke the life from your body.'__

'Promise?' Tony grinned at him. 'Come on, _guess _.'__

Steve's fingers tapped a complicated tattoo on the wheel. 'Rest stop?'

Tony made the buzzer noise.

'Real trees?' Steve's mouth twitched, clearly the Stockholm Syndrome was setting in hard. 'Risky behaviour? Redneck? Rubble? Root of tree?'

Tony cracked up. ''Root of tree', Steve?'

Steve's hand left the wheel just long enough to deliver a solid shove to Tony's shoulder. 'Shut up, you're the one who picked 'African Languages' for the alphabet game. OK, what does your little eye spy?'

'Road kill,' Tony jerked a thumb over his shoulder. 'But you missed it, being so slow.'

Steve groaned, and looked like he was considering banging his head on the steering wheel.

****

'So what was Wanda like?' Steve asked over the ridiculously thick steaks Tony had ordered that night, the two of them the only patrons in the restaurant. The waiter wafted past every few minutes, topping up Tony's wine without stopping, smiling distractedly at the table. 'How'd you meet?'

'Sweet,' Tony said after thinking for a while. 'And she was always into the hippie vibe stuff, so this commune thing isn't really a surprise.'

'I'm having a hard time picturing you with 'sweet',' Steve grinned at him. 'Maria seemed more your speed.'

Tony flipped him off. 'Wanda's a steel magnolia sort of sweet. She had killer legs.'

'Uh huh,' Steve set his attention on the food, tempted to stick his foot out the seventh time the damn waiter flitted past.

'No attacking the staff,' Tony ticked a finger back and forth, clicking his tongue and smirking. 'He's just doing his job.'

Steve swallowed, and shot a glare at the waiter's back. 'He's hovering.'

'Can you blame him?' Tony sat back with his wine. 'His tips for the whole night pretty much depend on us at this rate. And we're both so pretty.'

Steve had to concede the point. 'Wait, _pretty _?'__

Tony laughed, and threw down what had to be three times the check, draining his glass and standing up. 'Come on, Captain Muscles. I want ice cream.'

'Told you not to call me that,' Steve muttered, but he was already following.

****

 

' _Wundagore Springs _,' Tony read the sign on the gate. 'Sound familiar to you?'__

Steve shook his head, and climbed out to open the gate.

Tony eased the car through, absently making a mental note to do a full check of the car when he got home. Damn dirt tracks; why hadn't he thought to bring the Jeep?

Steve closed the gate carefully, and they drove the bumpy two miles or so to the...

'Antebellum manor?' Tony shut the engine off and stared. 'What?'

'I thought you said this was a hippy commune,' Steve said, smiling. 'Filthy tents and dreary outhouses, you said.'

Tony was saved from answering by a woman striding over from the... mansion.

'Are you lost?' she called. 'This is private property, but we'd be happy to-'

Tony leapt out, grinning. 'Wanda!'

'Tony?' Wanda stopped, mid-step. 'Tony Stark? What brings you to my door?'

Tony practically skipped across the grass. Her long legs were just as spectacular as he remembered, and on glorious display in cut off jeans. 'Can't a guy drop in on an old friend?' he kissed the cheek she absently offered. 'I thought I'd surprise you-'

'Top marks, then,' Wanda smiled. 'How are you? And who's your friend?'

Tony turned to beckon Steve over. 'Steve, Wanda. Wanda, Steve. I've taken some time off work, and thought I'd track down some people I haven't seen in a while. Steve was kind enough to come along to keep me from having to talk to myself.'

'Pleasure to meet you, ma'am,' Steve offered his hand. Wanda shook, staring intently at Steve, then Tony, then the space between them. Tony got the impression she was looking for vibes, or something equally silly. He shook himself; Wanda believed she could see them, and it was rude to be dismissive.

Wanda turned a bright smile on the two of them, and clapped her hands. 'Since you're here, would you mind lending a hand?'

'Sure,' Steve said. 'With what?'

Wanda's grin turned sharp. 'A few chores. We'll feed you, of course, but the girls and I are alone today. Doesn't mean the boys' chores don't need to be done, though.'

She led them around the back of the incongruous house, to a scene much more like Tony had imagined. Two young girls in pinafores and bare feet were chasing each other in circles next to a pig pen. Three slightly older girls, maybe ten to thirteen Tony guessed, were grouped against the fence, whispering behind their hands.

'Leigh, Jenna,' Wanda called. 'Go get the milking bucket.'

The two small girls squealed, and ran into what Tony decided he was going to call a barn. They raced out a few minutes later, carrying a metal bucket and a wooden stool, skidding to a halt a few feet away from Steve.

'Ever milked a goat before?' Wanda's sharp smile seemed to grow a few more teeth, and Tony got a sudden mental image of Erik. God, the two of them had better never meet. Maybe they were related? Urgh, of all the awful, off-putting thoughts...

Steve paled a little. 'Uh, no I have not.'

Wanda held the unsettling smile for a moment, then laughed. 'I just need you to help move some hay bales, carry the slop bucket. Heavy things the girls can't do. Tony can milk the goat.'

'Wait, what?' That was absolutely not a squeak, Tony told himself, no matter what Steve and Wanda's expressions implied. 'I don't... really? Really? Oh, all right, then.'

He collected the stool and bucket, and followed Leigh and Jenna when they raced off. 'I hope you kids are planning on teaching me how.'

****

As it turned out, Tony and the goat ('Her name's Maklar the Destroyer', Jenna had said, all exasperated rolling of eyes and a 'you idiot' tone Tony was not used to being on the receiving end of) got on very well. Oh, Maklar the Destroyer _had _kicked a bit at the start, and Tony was sure the smell of goat milk was never coming out of these pants, but after sending the girls a little way away and proceeding to go into great and anatomically exaggerated detail about what he would do if she didn't settle down, Maklar sniffed and settled down. He even managed to fill the bucket about a third of the way before Wanda appeared.__

'Oh, well done,' she deftly slid the bucket away just before Maklar gave a great heave and cantered off towards some green things to wreak havoc, Tony assumed. 'Hardly anyone gets to keep more than a cup out of her.'

Tony moved to rub his hands on his face, remembered where they'd just been, and redirected to his thighs. 'So, Wanda,' he arranged himself as casually as was possible on a milking stool designed for a twelve year old. 'What's been happening?'

'Since I saw you last?' she offered him a hand up, and helped heave him to his feet. 'Pietro and I inherited this house from a distant uncle-'

'Was he a re-enactment buff?' Tony couldn't help himself. 'About five hundred miles too far north, isn't it?'

'As far as we could tell, he had it built to piss off a neighbour,' Wanda shrugged. 'I like it.'

'Well,' Tony put a hand on the small of her back to herd her towards the possibility of coffee. That, and she still felt good. 'That's what matters. So, Pietro's here, too?'

'Not this week,' she shot him a glance that let him know she was wise to his tricks, but she didn't object, so he left the hand where it was. 'He's gone to visit some family. But yes, we run the farm together.'

'And the kids?'

'Mine,' Wanda smiled happily, and Tony almost tripped over his own feet.

'What?' he blinked. 'All of them? But that one's,' he pointed to the oldest girl, who was watching Steve hurl blocks of hay around. He'd taken his shirt off, so Tony couldn't blame her. 'That one's got to be thirteen!'

'Not biologically,' Wanda pursed her lips. 'Except for Jenna, Tommy and William. But the boys are with their father this week.'

'I..' Tony stared at her. 'Uh, wow. Sorry? Not that you have kids, I mean-'

'Shut up, Tony,' Wanda said, not unkindly. She leaned her arms on the fence around the pigs. 'I love my kids, and my life. Are you going to tell me why you tracked me down, now? I know it's more than nostalgia.'

Tony took a deep breath, and explained about his father, the wedding, and his list. Wanda listened, head cocked, humming neutral sounds every once in a while. When he wound down, she placed a hand on his cheek.

'I'm sorry, but you wasted your journey,' she smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone. Tony held her hand in place when she went to pull away.

'Seeing you could never be a waste of time,' he said as sincerely as he could. 'I'm really glad you're happy, Wanda. And it's not like I have a dearth of prospects.'

'I think you are searching for something that has already found you, Tony,' Wanda said, staring over Tony's shoulder. When he turned, letting her hand slip out of his, Tony saw Steve laughing and being directed by the girls to move some... farm things around.

'Uh-huh,' he turned back to Wanda, smiling. Cryptic hippie stuff aside, it was probably time to go. 'Well, it was lovely to see you again. Good luck with the whole,' he waved a hand to indicate the farm. 'Gaia bit. Drop in if you're ever in the city.'

Wanda dimpled at him, and brushed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 'That I will, Tony. And you are welcome back any time you feel like connecting with the Earth.'

'Sure,' With a last appreciative glance at her legs, Tony headed back to Steve.

'OK,' Steve was saying to the girls, swiping his arm across his face and grinning. 'I think that's it. Was there anything else you need help with?'

'Come on, Hot Stuff,' Tony called from well away from the mud, thank you. 'Let's go hose you down and get some dinner.'

'You're welcome to stay for dinner,' Wanda leaned against the fence. 'I did tell you we'd feed you.'

Tony turned to say thanks-but-no-thanks, and Steve seized him around the waist and dropped him into the pig pen. Tony lay there, blinking stupidly as Steve and the girls giggled. _Giggled _.__

'Right,' he muttered, swinging a leg under the fence in the swipe Happy had been trying for two years to teach him. It'd never worked on Happy, but Steve went down like a felled tree. 'Hah!' Tony scooped a handful of mud up, and jumped back over the fence to rub it in Steve's face, but Steve twisted somehow, hooking at least five limbs around Tony and rolling him. Tony blinked up at Steve's grinning face, batting his eyelashes. 'Why hello there.'

Steve paused, the great big booby, and Tony shoved his mud in Steve's hair, heaving when Steve relaxed in surprise, and rolling him into the mud near the pen.

'Victory!' Tony crowed, sitting back on his heels, and raising his fists. 'I, erk-!'

Steve pulled some deadly ninja move that wound up with him pinning Tony face-down and laughing. Tony could feel the tremors along every inch as Steve casually reached out to smear mud in Tony's own hair. Tony managed to squint up at Wanda's face. She smirked at him, and made a gesture to someone he couldn't see.

The bucket of water was _freezing _, and just about the only upside Tony could see was the string of curse words Steve let out as he jerked away. The five girls and Wanda stared down at them, four more buckets apparently ready to be thrown.__

'L-languge, S-s-steve,' Tony got out, not sure if it was the laughter or the cold making his teeth chatter. He got Jenna's bucket to himself after that, and he turned his best shocked betrayal face on the girl. She grinned, and reached for Leigh's bucket.

Tony, recognising when withdrawal was advised, scrambled to his feet and shot across the yard. The girls screamed and thundered after him. He skirted the barn and looped back towards Steve and Wanda, shouting 'So long, sucke-'

Steve's giant hand hooked around his ankle, and he fell. 'Urgh,' and then about ten gallons of freezing water happened and the girls shrieked in bloodthirsty victory.

Tony blinked up at the sky, trying to catch his breath. This was _not _how he'd pictured the day. A few clouds drifted past, then Steve's apologetic face appeared.__

'Are you OK?' he gave Tony a once-over and frowned. 'Did I hurt you?'

'Only my pride,' Tony flapped a hand for assistance and let Steve pull him to his feet. 'And my wardrobe, you brute, this was a Van Dyne. She gets so huffy when I wreck her clothing-'

'Gee, Tony,' Steve scraped at the mud in his hair, having little luck getting it out. 'I'm sorry, do you want-'

Tony shoved him in the shoulder. 'Don't be stupid, Maklar got to the pants first; I was going to have to chuck it anyway. Er, Wanda?' he turned a hopeful smile towards her. 'Do you think Pietro would mind us borrowing some clothes? And can we use the shower?'

'I'm sure I can find something,' she jerked her head towards the house and led them inside. 'Though I might have to wash Steve's clothes. You're quite a bit bigger than Pietro or my ex. Just leave them outside the bathroom and I'll have them done as quickly as possible.'

'You go first,' Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder. 'That way Wanda can get started on your clothes. I'll get some coffee, if I could?'

Wanda shook her head. 'Kitchen's through there, Tony. You and coffee...'

Tony grinned, and went as directed.

****

Wanda handed Tony a pair of jeans and a flannelette shirt. He stared.

'And I'm taking a photo to send to Jan,' she waved a camera at him. 'You should be able to hear her horrified screams from your parents' house.'

'Oh, well,' Tony put his empty cup in the sink. 'If it's to make designers scream in horror. Shower's free?'

'Yeah,' Steve padded in, towel slung around his waist and headed for the coffee. 'Good pressure, too.'

Tony let himself ogle while Steve was occupied pouring his coffee. Damn, he wished he had a camera-

A flash went off, then again when Steve whirled around. Wanda grinned, and took a third photo as Steve relaxed, blushing.

Damn, Tony couldn't stop himself licking his lips. The blush seemed to go all the way down.

'You're welcome,' Wanda murmured to Tony when he pulled himself together and brushed past her to go wash off. He felt his own cheeks heat as her laughter followed him.

****

Steve was right about the water pressure, and Tony felt relaxed enough after warming up properly that he didn't even mind letting flannel touch his skin.

He scrubbed the towel over his hair one last time, dropped it in the basket and went back to the kitchen.

'Anything I can do to help?' he asked when he saw Wanda and the girls rushing around.

'Yes,' Wanda said, not looking away from whatever it was she was doing to the stove. 'Go sit in the dining room with Steve and don't make anything blow up.'

' _One _time,' he started, then at Wanda's sharp look. 'Multiple times... OK, every time I've been unsupervised in a kitchen... aw, hell. Dining room, you said?'__

Wanda pointed, and Tony went.

****

 

'So,' Tony posed in the doorway. 'How do I pull off the rugged mountain man look?'

Steve's lips twitched. 'In a very metro sexual manner.'

Tony tried a few catwalk poses, then dropped into a chair. 'Yeah, Wanda's idea of a joke: get Tony in clothes from Wal*Mart. Urgh, I think I just got hives.'

Steve watched him, expression sympathetic. 'Strike two?'

Tony shrugged. 'It was good to see her again, and kids, man!' he sighed, and it came out more melancholy than he intended. 'Everyone's growing up.'

Steve reached across the table to put his hand over Tony's. 'You'll find someone. There's still, what? Two hundred and ninety-eight names to go?'

Tony laughed, patting Steve's hand with his free one. 'There's only seven months left; I don't think I can get through the whole list in seven months.'

Steve's hand squeezed. 'It'll work out. Hey, if nothing else, you could take Jarvis. You'd just have to build him a body.'

Tony made a show of considering it. 'Nah. Anyway, Maria offered to be emergency backup date,' he toyed with the cuff of Steve's shirt. 'Anyway, it's stopped being so much about the wedding. Seeing everyone settling down, how happy they are...'

'Makes you feel like you're missing out,' Steve whispered. 'Tony-'

'All right,' Wanda appeared at the head of a train of girls bearing food. 'We have pot roast, potatoes, green beans and cauliflower cheese. Tony, coming through behind you.'

Steve snatched his hand back as Tony pulled his chair in, and Wanda frowned for a moment. She made an apologetic face at Tony and the top of Steve's head, since he was apparently engrossed by the design on his plate.

'Sounds and smells fabulous,' Tony smiled at her, and raised his eyebrows at the girls. 'Who made what?'

The shouting match for recognition took about five minutes, and as far as Tony could tell ended in a stalemate. He glanced at Wanda. 'I thought girls were supposed to be the sweet, calm ones?'

She laughed in his face.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creeper stalker being creey, but he gets caught.

Tony was woken at godawful o'clock by his phone blaring something by Lady Gaga. He flailed at it, squawked when he overbalanced, and fell out of the bed knocking the phone off the bedside table as he went down. The phone hit him in the forehead, snapping _...ride on your disco stick- _cheerily.__

' _What _?!' Tony snarled when he managed to answer. 'Who the fuck is this?'__

'Aww, baby,' Tony squinted at the screen, blurrily recognising Clint posing with finger guns aimed at the camera. 'Does this mean the honeymoon's over?'

'You know,' Tony half sat up to grab a pillow off the bed, and settled back on the floor. 'I don't have to even be in the same country to fuck around with _your _phone settings. Just saying,' he yawned. 'Obnoxious... or, hey. Was that your way of saying you wanna ride on my 'disco stick'?'__

Clint snorted. 'You wish, Stark. Hey, how'd it go with Hippie Chickie?'

Tony shifted a little, pulling a shoe out of the small of his back and throwing it carelessly at the door. 'She has kids.'

'That a deal breaker for you?' There was a hard note of disapproval in Clint's voice.

'What? No,' Tony blinked. 'She wasn't interested. The kids were little terrors; they threw something like twenty gallons of freezing water on me after Steve threw me in the pig pen,' he paused, and couldn't help grinning. 'It was awesome.'

'Hah!' Tony could hear Clint start typing. 'OK, strike Wanda out. Good news, though: I found your pretty-boy LeBeau.'

'Great,' Tony stretched. 'Awesome. Send me the details.'

' _Please _,' Clint scoffed. 'Already done. And he's living in Tribeca, so nice and convenient.'__

'Hey, great!' Tony grinned, only to be interrupted by another yawn. 'Urgh. I need coffee.'

'Yeah you do,' Clint laughed. 'Catch you later. Let me know if I'm gonna have to track down any more of your cast-offs.'

'Fuck you,' Tony said cheerfully, pulling himself upright by grabbing at the bed.

'Yeah, you wish,' Clint loved him, really. 'Say hey to Steve next time you see him.'

'Hey, Steve, wake up. Clint says hi,' Tony said to the empty bed, just to hear the choking sound Clint made. He laughed and hung up.

****

'So I just got a hysterical phone call from Clint this morning,' Steve raised an eyebrow at what the desk clerk had said was Tony's third carafe of coffee, and sat in the armchair opposite him. 'Though he wouldn't say why he was freaking out.'

Tony gulped, and refilled his cup. 'Why would I know anything about that? I don't know why Barton would lose it, why would I know?'

Steve put a hand over the coffee cup, blocking Tony from taking another sip. 'You're vibrating, Tony.'

'Awesome,' Tony tugged at the cup a few times, then relented, sitting back and pouting. 'Give it back.'

'No-o,' Steve shook his head, exaggeratedly slowly. 'I'm not keen on you spending a week in Emergency detoxing. You're my ride back to the city.'

'Hey!' Tony glared. 'I'll have you know I've had caffeine poisoning three times, and one: this isn't even close, and two: only pussies cave to palpitations!'

'Uh-huh,' Steve handed the coffee jug over to the clerk, who'd been hovering in a slowly decaying orbit around Tony. 'Got water? I think I need to get water in him.'

'You don't say,' the clerk sauntered out into the back office, and came back with four bottles of water. 'Let me know if you need more.'

Steve thanked him, and turned to coach a sulky Tony into rehydrating.

' _Fine _,' Tony groaned after about six minutes of Steve's best disappointed stare and turned his sullen glare at the wall. 'But when we crash and die a flaming horrible death because I fell asleep at the wheel, you don't get to blame me.'__

Tony's attention safely aimed away from him, Steve indulged in a moment of fond longing. His fingers itched with the desire to sketch Tony like this; relaxed and hair all askew, half smiling in spite of himself. _Steve's _.__

Only he wasn't, was he?

'What? What?' Tony shot him a sidelong look. 'What's that face for? Why are you making a face? Ooh, I should see if I can program Jarvis with the ability to read the social cues I miss and cue me when I'm being awful. Nah,' he flapped a hand in instant dismissal. 'He'd never shut up then, would he?'

'I'm not making a face, Tony,' Steve took one of the water bottles himself and hurriedly swallowed about half. 'And if I were, it would be the sort of face that means 'you're hilarious like this, but get some sleep before you explode'.'

' _Can _your face do that?' Tony leaned over the table, squinting at Steve's face from about three inches away. 'That's a talented face. I...um,' he seemed to realise he was leaning across a table, way inside Steve's personal space, and he blinked.__

Steve held his breath, almost vibrating with tension. Was this... was Tony going to-?

_All the single ladies _something screeched, accompanied by dreadful electronic music. _All the single- _.____

Tony spasmed, and would have landed on the floor if Steve hadn't managed to grab his shoulder to steady him. He shot Steve a hugely embarrassed glance, and fished his phone out, music shutting off as he accepted the call.

' _What _, Clint?' he demanded, shifting out of Steve's grip to sit down again. 'And, OK, props on your hacking skills, and your knowledge of terrible awful no good very bad chick songs, but I hope you realise this means war.'__

There was a brief pause while Clint responded to that, with counter-threats if the amusement on Tony's face was anything to go by, then 'Huh? Oh, yeah, OK. No, _no _that cyborg is not welcome-'__

Tony's face did some interesting contorting, and he sighed. ' _Fine _. But I'm arming myself. Shut up. _God _.'____

Clint laughed so loudly Steve could hear it, and Tony cut the call, scowling. He tossed his phone on the table, sending it skittering across the coffee table towards Steve.

'So...' Steve put a hand out to catch the phone. 'Clint and Coulson coming to visit?'

Tony drummed his fingers and hummed. 'You ready to head back?' he quirked a brief smile. 'Apparently I've only got until five-thirty before my apartment's invaded by trigger-happy robot bastards.'

Steve grinned. 'You like him, really.'

'Do not,' Tony pouted, unconvincingly. 'Shut up. Why does no one respect me? Jesus, go get your bags already. God, shut up!'

Steve smothered the laugh, and stood up. 'OK, OK. But I'm driving.'

Tony threw up his hands in defeat and groaned.

****

Tony had let Steve drive the whole way back, though Steve had to admit part of that was to do with the fact Tony had passed out when they hit Boston and hadn't woken up until the Connecticut/New York border.

'Strnuhmgh?' Tony jerked in his seat. 'Whassat? Huh?'

'Good afternoon,' Steve definitely did _not _smile besottedly at him. 'Sleep well?'__

Tony blinked adorably, and shuffled further upright. 'What happened? Where are we?'

'About an hour and a half out,' Steve spared a hand to pat Tony's shoulder, hoping it came across as only mock-sympathetic. 'Feeling better?'

Tony screwed his face up, failing at stifling a yawn. 'Why didn't you wake me?'

'Tony,' Steve raised his eyebrows. 'You had so much coffee you looked like you were trying to be the Flash, and then you spent two hundred miles drooling into the seat belt.'

Tony scrubbed at his face like an irate squirrel, and Steve couldn't help snorting.

'Lies,' Tony dug around the foot well and came up with the last bottle of water. 'Scurrilous lies, and unless you have photographic evidence. You don't, do you?'

'You won't know unless I need to blackmail you,' Steve replied. 'You need food?'

Tony mainlined the whole bottle, stretched, and kicked his feet up on the dash. 'Nah, I can wait. Sorry.'

'What for?' Steve took the exit for the next diner. Regardless of what Tony said, he could probably use some food. 'Sleeping?'

'Yeah,' Steve could see Tony flush out of the corner of his eye. 'Made you drive...alone...'

'Oh, shut up,' Steve said fondly, swinging the car into an empty spot. 'And buy me a burger to make up for it.'

'Sure,' Tony ran his hands through his hair several times, leaving it looking like he'd been in a brawl, slid on a pair of sunglasses, and gestured for Steve to lead the way.

****

They got home just after five, crawling through traffic for the last half hour, Tony bawling along to Billie Holiday just to annoy Steve. It hadn't worked; Steve just laughed as he parked, shaking his head and climbing out.

'Hey,' Tony snapped his fingers. 'We should check the surveillance before the robot and your superfriend arrive.'

He launched himself out of the car, heading for the elevator. The bags could wait.

Apparently Steve didn't think so, because it took him five minutes to follow, carrying Tony's and his bag and dangling the car keys in Tony's face. 'More haste, less speed, Tony.'

'More coffee, less aphorisms,' Tony shot back and stabbed the call button.

****

'Did ya miss me, baby?' Tony called as he unlocked the door. 'Have a party while daddy was gone?'

'Welcome home, sir,' Jarvis, well, crooned. 'I have upgraded my vocal software again, and have coffee ready for you in the kitchen.'

Tony grinned, then frowned. 'Hang on, how'd you know when to put the kettle on?'

'I have learned to access the building's CCTV,' Jarvis sounded justifiably proud. 'And have been monitoring for your return.'

Steve brushed past to drop the bags, and whispered 'Skynet as a golden retriever?'

'Captain, I-' Jarvis began, but Tony waved the objection away.

'Have you been monitoring Steve's apartment, too?' he swung by the kitchen to get the coffee, and settled in at the desktop, booting it up and calling up the cameras. 'Any action?'

Steve took his own cup, and stood behind Tony, one hand resting on Tony's shoulder. 'This is creepy.'

'The monitoring,' Tony slanted a glance up at him. 'Or its necessity? Because-'

'If you look at timestamp 1300 from yesterday,' Jarvis interrupted, pulling the file up himself. 'There was access gained to the Captain's apartment by Mr Jessup.'

'The super?' Steve leant closer to the screen as the man checked the hall, then unlocked Steve's apartment. 'Well, maybe someone reported a leak or something?'

Jarvis changed the view to a four-way split screen showing the inside of the apartment. Jessup wandered around the living room, giving the impression of a nosey neighbour taking advantage of his host's absence to rootle around someone else's space. Weird, and Steve had better lodge a complaint about this, but, Tony thought, nothing threatening.

'When this is over,' Steve said. 'Those are coming out, right? Oh God, what is he doing?'

On the bedroom screen, Jessup had sprawled out on Steve's quilt, pressing a shirt from the laundry basket to his face. His hand crept down his torso into his pants, and Tony's hand shot out to turn the screen off. Steve and Tony stared at each other in horror.

'I...' Steve turned red, mouth working silently.

'I am calling my father,' Tony dug his phone out. 'And you're calling the police.'

'Your father?' Steve blinked, momentarily derailed. 'Why are you calling your father?'

'Uh,' Tony felt his own face heat. 'He owns the building.'

'Of course he does,' Steve heaved a sigh, interrupted by the doorbell. He raised his eyebrows at Tony. 'Clint and Coulson?'

It was five-thirty on the dot. 'Probably. Let 'em in.'

'So, bitches,' Clint said, leaping onto the couch. 'What're we...' he trailed off, sat up straight, and shot a significant look at Coulson.

Coulson glanced at Steve's flushed face, and said 'What happened?'

Tony ceded his chair to Coulson, and turned the screen back on. Jarvis had left it paused. 'That guy? He's the building super. And it's not the first time he's been in Steve's apartment.'

'I would have been worried about why you installed surveillance, otherwise,' Coulson pursed his lips. 'Is he just a pervert, or has he been-'

' _Just _a pervert?!' Tony exploded. 'I'm pretty sure _just _a pervert is enough to be going with for the moment!'____

'There's nothing sensitive in my possession any more, Agent,' Steve said, leaning against the wall and feigning ease badly. 'I don't think there's a need for any military intervention.'

Coulson studied the image on-screen for a few moments. 'If it's all the same to you, Captain,' he said eventually. 'I'll go over the surveillance to make sure. Have you already called the police? Or Stark Senior?'

Tony threw up his hands. 'Calling him now. Jarvis, highlight when Jessup was in Steve's apartment and show Coulson. You can go ahead and delete the footage of the empty apartment.'

'Certainly, sir,' Jarvis's voice came through the computer speakers, but Coulson didn't jump. Bastard.

'Thank you,' Coulson said, then angled his head. 'Clint? Take the Captain into the kitchen. Have a coffee, catch up. This shouldn't take long.'

'Sir, yes sir,' Clint flipped a casual salute and dragged Steve into the kitchen.

Glaring at the back of Coulson's head and being soundly ignored was not Tony's preferred way of spending the afternoon, so he went into his bedroom to call his father.

****

'Harry Jessup has been taken into custody,' Howard announced as he came through the door. 'And I would like to know what you think you're doing in my son's apartment, Agent Coulson. I personally told you he was not available for this project.'

Coulson smiled blandly. 'It was a social visit, Mr Stark. Agent Barton is friends with Captain Rogers.'

'Project?' Tony perked up a little. 'There's a project? Come on, Dad, I'm dying of boredom. I can help on a project. Is it spy stuff? You know I love making spy stuff.'

Coulson turned his blandest face on Tony. 'Classified. And doing fine without you.'

Tony growled.

Howard seemed to notice Steve, then, and took the few steps necessary to offer his hand. 'Captain. I cannot begin to tell you how much I regret this incident. The HR department and the estate agent are going to get a talking-to, let me assure you.'

'Uh,' Steve shook his hand. 'Not your fault, sir. Thank you, though.'

Howard nodded to him, then turned, glance skating across Clint and Coulson to land on Tony. He jerked his head towards the door. 'Tony, if I could have a word.'

Tony sighed, and let his father lead him up to the roof.

'Tony,' Howard said as soon as the door swung shut behind them. 'Your mother's been worried. She hasn't seen you in a month, and you know what I said.'

'I've been busy,' Tony started, then stopped. He didn't want to tell Howard about Jarvis yet. Maybe not at all. And telling him about the list was so far beyond being an acceptable course of action it might as well have been impossible.

'I thought you were dying of boredom?' Howard's moustache quirked. 'Tony, sulking like this isn't helping you, and it just upsets your mother. Come to dinner Wednesday; Pepper will be there, and you can spend one night being civil, reassure your mother and let her know not to worry. Then you can sulk as long as you like, though if you could refrain from stalking your neighbour or running away with Agent Coulson, I would appreciate it.'

Tony felt his lips describe a bitter curve, but he remained silent. Just treat it like a doorstop, he told himself. Keep the front up, don't let them see when they score a point, and hopefully piss them off enough to make a mistake or give up.

It worked a lot better on reporters than on Howard. The man would have to see him as a person rather than an exploitable asset, Tony reflected. _This _was why he'd kept falling into Obie's bed, and that was a Bad Idea I Forbid It Tony. _Just let it wash over you _, he chanted mentally. No point getting upset.____

'All right,' Howard clapped a hand on Tony's shoulder, taking his silence as assent. 'You'll need to surrender the security footage; I don't want to know why you had your neighbour's apartment bugged, Tony, and let's hope the police don't either. We'll see you for dinner.'

Howard turned and vanished inside. Tony looked out across the rooftop, wrapping his arms around himself. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but the light was going when Steve appeared, dropping a coat around Tony's shoulders.

'Hey,' Steve elbowed him gently as Tony pulled the coat on, shivering. He hadn't realised he'd gotten so cold until he wasn't.

'Thanks,' he smiled at Steve. 'How long've I been up here? Kinda lost track of time.'

'Half an hour, maybe,' Steve settled an arm around Tony's shoulders, rubbing gently. 'You should come inside. Clint's ordered Chinese, and he always gets enough for twenty.'

Tony thought about staying out here with his upset mood, staring dramatically out at the city as night fell, and laughed at himself. 'Sure thing. Oh, don't tell me Coulson's staying for dinner too?'

Steve left his arm where it was as they wandered back to the apartment, a comforting warmth across Tony's back. He only let go as Tony reached out to open the door. 'Tony.'

'Hmm?' Tony turned, looking up into Steve's eyes.

Steve blinked, apparently surprised at how close they were, and took a step back. 'Thank you,' he twitched a finger towards his apartment. 'For helping with that, I mean.'

'No problem,' Tony ran a hand through his hair. 'You wanna keep staying over while they're processing the scene?'

Steve shuddered. 'I don't know I'll ever want to go back in there. I might have to look for a new place.'

Tony gaped. 'Oh, hey no, no, no. You can't-' he thought about Jessup, and shuddered himself. 'OK, yeah maybe. But I have a room that could easily be another bedroom, we'll get you a new bed, cuz God knows your current one's getting burnt,' Steve chuckled, nodding. 'And you just move in with me and Jarvis.'

'Tony,' Steve drew his name out, and Tony could hear the enthusiasm under his reluctance. 'You can't-'

'Can!' Tony threw the door open and marched in. 'Did! We'll get you a bed tomorrow, Stars and Stripes. Barton, what hideous mistakes have you made in ordering dinner?'

He was peripherally aware of Steve following, trying to object to Tony's offer, but if he couldn't hear objections then they didn't count. He concentrated on arguing with Clint about the merits of Chinese restaurants in New York versus DC until Steve gave up and sat down.

He hadn't had a room-mate since college. He grinned at Steve. This was going to be awesome.


	14. Chapter 14

As Tony would have predicted if he'd dedicated any thought whatsoever to it, Coulson and Erik stared at each other like alley cats for an unsettlingly long time, then bonded like life bros without ever opening their mouths.

'What unholy abomination have I unleashed?' Tony braced his hands on top of his head, posing as forlornly as he knew how. Team Erik-Cyborg would be the _worst _team-up in _history _.____

'No one ever told you your face'll stick that way?'

Tony turned to find the teenage paparazzo standing right behind him. 'My face,' he said loftily. 'Got stuck on the super-hot setting at an early age, and is in no danger of slipping.'

'Uh-huh,' the kid grinned, jumping onto a barstool and twisting himself on the seat like an acrobatic pretzel. 'So I notice you haven't been hanging around the high-traffic areas these past few months, Mr Stark.'

Tony snorted, turning to go find Steve or Charles, or even Clint.

'Enquiring minds wanna know why,' the kid called. 'You moping for the love of your life running off with another man? Building a doomsday weapon, having finally snapped? Been replaced by a pod person? I could sell that one; all you need to do is let me get the blue filters up and practise looking evil.'

'Sorry, kid,' Tony glared at him without force. 'Looks like you're getting yelled at by your editor again tomorrow. This is a No Photographers bar. Skedaddle before I sic the mighty Erik on you.'

The kid shrugged and slid off the stool. 'It's Peter,' he grinned. 'See you around, Mr Stark.'

'I insist my stalkers call me Tony!' he shouted at Peter's back as the kid wove through the crowd towards the door.

'Is that a familiarity reserved for stalkers now, or can I presume, cher?'

Tony jumped. 'Remy? Holy crap, I was going to call you on the weekend! What're you doing here?'

Remy's smile spread in the slow, seductive grin that had always lit a fire in Tony's belly. 'It is still Charles's bar, _non _? I come here when I need the adrenaline buzz of ordering drinks from a deranged lunatic.'__

Tony laughed, leaning in to kiss Remy's cheeks. Remy, still grinning, twisted to slant his mouth over Tony's.

It took more than a few minutes before Tony pulled away to smirk at him. 'Well, _hello _there, sailor. Miss me that much?'__

'OK,' Clint appeared at Tony's elbow, holding a matching pair of ridiculously elaborate drinks Tony was _dying _to find out how he'd made Erik make, and glaring. 'How does this keep happening? I know you didn't call him already.'__

Tony narrowed his eyes. 'Are you monitoring my phone, Barton?'

'Pfft,' Clint took a pull from one of the glasses. 'Of course I am. Come on, is there a Cosmic Scriptwriter organising your life?'

'Remy,' Tony slid an arm around Remy's waist, and used the other one to make a gesture towards Clint. 'This is Clint. A mouthier bastard you're unlikely to meet. Clint, Remy.'

Clint shot him a you're-an-idiot glance, and bowed his head to Remy. 'Pleasure. Few days earlier than I thought the pleasure was gonna be, but pleasure all the same. Stark, we're over by the potted thing when you're ready.'

He headed towards a giant urn with a ficus sticking out of it, and Jesus. Who the hell was Charles letting choose the décor? That was just _awful _.__

'You here with company?' Remy moved to step away, and Tony tightened his grip.

'Wanna join us?' he let his hand slip a little lower. 'I really was going to look you up in a few days. You've saved me a quarter.'

'Y' ever used a payphone in your life, cher?' Remy laughed, the throaty smoker's chuckle Tony remembered gotten a little deeper with age. 'All right, let's meet y' friends.'

****

Clint had evidently briefed everyone when he got to the table, as four pairs of eyes turned on them as they approached after a busy and fun fifteen minutes spent in one of the not-quite-concealed alcoves Charles (bless his exhibitionist little self) had scattered around the room. Their expressions were carefully polite except Charles who was grinning like a madman.

'So this is Remy?' Steve's smile looked a little odd, but he slid over to give them room. 'Nice to meet you.'

'Remy, you know Charles,' Tony nodded at Charles, ignoring the leer Clint was shooting him. 'Steve, Agent Taserpants, and Barton's the one with the appalling taste in liquor we ran into before.'

Remy gave the table a bow, and ushered Tony into the booth ahead of himself. 'Pleasure. So, Tony,' he rested his arm along the top of the seat behind Tony's shoulders. 'What's all this about lookin' for me?'

'Ah,' Tony rubbed at the back of his head. 'I think I'll get us drinks first.'

'I'm coming too,' Steve said sharply, then flushing. 'Er, I mean-'

'No,' Tony got up. 'It's fine, Steve. No repeat of last time, I swear,' he stage whispered to Remy behind his hand. 'Peyote tequila. Erik's got some skills.'

'Not that I don't trust you, Tony,' Steve actually _climbed over _the table when no one moved to let him out, jumping to the floor and straightening his clothes and blushing. 'But you'll need a hand carrying.'__

'And he doesn't trust you,' Clint chimed in, leaning against Coulson and looking a few steps closer to drunk than Tony had thought he was. Probably Erik had put something in the lurid horrors as payback for being forced to make them, Tony told himself.

'Fine,' Tony rolled his eyes at Remy. Really, everyone was horrible and ridiculous. 'You can guard me from the Wrath of Erik.'

****

'So...' Tony refilled Remy's glass with the bottle of regular commercially-produced bourbon Steve had insisted on this time, half an hour of explanation later. 'That's what's going on for me.'

Remy's hand slid along Tony's thigh, and he chuckled again. 'Oh, cher. I've missed you and all the crazy.'

'Really?' Tony dragged the word out, smirking. 'So you interested in trying?'

Remy just leaned in, grinning, to kiss him.

****

Steve couldn't help it; he stared at Tony and Remy at the bar. Tony looked so happy, maybe this was _it _. Remy seemed nice, in a snarky sort of way. Able to keep up with Tony's sharp tongue and give as good as he got. And they'd certainly fallen easily into a physical relationship.__

He felt his hands clench under the table, and bit his lip. Dammit, so long as Tony was happy, that should be it.

Clint looked over, laughing. The smile vanished when he got a look at Steve's face, traced his gaze to the bar, and put two and two together. Steve cursed under his breath.

'Shit,' Clint said, one hand making an aborted move towards Steve's shoulder. 'Shit. How long?'

Steve had to laugh at that. 'Does it matter? I'll be fine. Even if this falls through,' he gestured at Tony, arched back over the bar to smirk into Remy's face as he ordered. 'It's not me.'

Clint's hand did make contact with Steve's shoulder this time. 'Dammit, Rogers. And you just moved in with him. Is this some Catholic thing?'

Clint's tone attempted to make a joke of it, so Steve dutifully laughed. 'Maybe. My mother _was _big on confession.'__

Clint sighed, and put an arm around his shoulders. Steve leaned into him a little, and they stayed sitting in silence for a long time.

****

The next morning, Tony woke up in his own bed with Remy's arm slung casually around his waist and a smile on his face. This had been an _outstanding _idea, and Charles deserved a medal.__

'Mornin', cher,' Remy murmured, slipping his hand lower. 'Sleep well?'

Tony grinned and flipped them enthusiastically, rolling once too far and off the bed, landing with a thud. 'Oww...'

Remy's face appeared over the edge of the mattress, chin resting on a fist. 'Out of practise, are we?'

'Maybe I just feel adventurous,' Tony arranged himself more seductively and fluttered his lashes. 'Join me?'

Remy didn't answer, he just pounced.

****

Tony skimmed his email that afternoon after Remy had drifted off home, thinking how he might delegate this to Jarvis somehow (AI would _have _to trump spammers, right?), when he found an email from Wanda. 'You're welcome', the subject line said, and there was no body, just a bunch of .jpeg attachments.__

'Huh,' he opened them to find about ten shots of himself arguing with the goat. Never going to let _those _out, he decided, shifting the files to the trash. Then there were a series of him and Steve covered in mud, wrestling and laughing. He hadn't realised Wanda had had her camera, but the sheer joy on Steve's face ought to be preserved for posterity, even if it had been at the absolute cost of Tony's dignity.__

The last three photos were the ones from the kitchen. Steve, still damp, turned away from the camera all long lines of muscle and golden skin. Steve, startled and in battle-ready stance with his hair flying in all directions, mouth open and inviting. Steve, flushed and shy, biting his lip and staring at something to the right of the camera.

Tony shifted in his chair, feeling a twinge of guilt even as he had to adjust himself. Steve was his friend; his roommate. His _straight _roommate, and anyway: Tony had Remy now.__

It took him a lot longer than he'd ever admit to close the photos. He considered deleting them, and the email, finger hovering over the key. In the end, he just moved them to a hidden folder. Steve might like to see the stupid shots of Tony and the goat, after all. Or the mud fight. He seemed like he needed cheering up recently; maybe the photos would help.

Shaking his head at himself, Tony sent all but the last three photos to the printer, and abandoned the email for the day. Maybe Jarvis wanted to incorporate Steve's La-z-Boy controls...

'Hey, Tony,' Steve called from his new room. 'Did you want to go look for that bed?'

'Bad Tony,' Tony muttered to himself for the ping of arousal that returned. 'No biscuit. Yeah, sure! Hey, Wanda sent me some photos, I printed them for you.'

Steve came out of his room, tugging a shirt over his head as he walked. 'Photos?' his forehead wrinkled adorably. 'When did she... oh.'

Tony grinned at the blush, and spun in his chair, turning 450 degrees to wind up pointing at the printer. 'Dead tree format just for you, Cap. But if Barton ever gets a hold of them, there will be consequences!'

Steve picked up the pile of paper and spent forever going through it, pausing several times to stare. God, Tony wanted to demand which photos were fascinating, to come clean about the other three shots, to make Steve look at him instead of the paper.

He went to get coffee, instead.


	15. Chapter 15

Winter hit like a fist that year, tearing through the streets with what felt like vicious intent. The wind howled outside the windows at all hours, almost seeming to carry screaming voices past the apartment. Steve had settled in to Tony's space more easily than he'd meant to, his art supplies warring for space with Jarvis's ever-growing upgrades and a startling number of cell phones and what Steve had taken to mentally labelling 'techno-trash'.

It helped (or didn't) that Tony was spending so much time with Remy now. It almost felt like he was living alone these days, Steve thought morosely as he poked at the thermostat. It _said _the room was 85, but that couldn't be right. Steve wouldn't have had to wrap himself in two blankets like a down-market Superman if it really was that warm.__

'I can adjust the temperature again, Captain,' Jarvis offered. 'You need only tell me your preferred comfort levels and I shall ensure the apartment complies.'

Steve shivered and hunched the blankets closer. 'Maybe just another ten degrees?'

'As you wish, Captain,' Jarvis hummed, and the air vent breathed out a blissful wave of heat.

Steve felt his shoulders relax. 'Thank you, Jarvis.'

Jarvis was silent for a moment, then made a noise like clearing his throat. 'I have been doing some research,' he said, almost hesitantly. 'On stimulants.'

Steve blinked. 'All right.'

'Mr Stark habitually consumes more than three times the recommended daily limit of caffeine,' Jarvis said, a little quicker than his usual speech rate, like he was afraid the words would be stopped somehow.

'And you're worried about him,' Steve sighed, dropping onto the sofa and lying back to stare at the ceiling. 'Me too, Jarvis.'

'He has yet to install any of the biometric scanners I suggested, and was resistant to the idea of wearing a heart monitor-'

'You tried to make Tony wear a heart monitor?' Steve felt charmed by the idea that Tony had accidentally created a mother-hen-slash-prankster-slash-butler. _It lives! And it wants to know whether you've eaten your vegetables _, he thought, chuckling to himself. 'Did you record footage of the fit he pitched when you made that request?'__

'Sadly, no,' Jarvis hummed again, shifting speakers in what Steve was coming to believe was the AI version of nervous pacing. 'Might I recruit your assistance in moderating the amount of caffeine Mr Stark imbibes?'

'Um...' Steve couldn't _believe _this was his life. 'I can't just follow him around everywhere and knock espresso cups out of his hand.'__

'I believe that will not be necessary, Captain. If we simply enforce sensible consumption in the apartment, I believe Mr Stark will understand. He is, after all, a genius.'

'Yeah,' Steve closed his eyes. 'Yeah, sure.'

****

He woke up a few hours later when something jabbed hard into his side, waking and rolling his attacker onto the floor in the same move. He blinked a few times, and felt his cheeks heat.

'I'm sorry!' he climbed off Tony, gripping his shoulders to haul Tony upright as he moved. 'So sorry, Tony-'

'That was really hot,' Tony said, then sort of squinted at his nose, like he was trying to glare at his own mouth. 'Um. Scary, I mean. So new rule: no waking Steve in ways that could be attacks. Gently calling your name next time from ten feet away, got it.'

Steve sank back onto the sofa, pulling his blanket-cape back over his shoulders. Of all the humiliating things... 'I didn't hurt you, did I?'

'No damage,' Tony flapped a hand, then levelled a petulant glare at Steve. 'But! Why is my coffee maker refusing to make me coffee? That's why I woke you.'

Steve glanced at the speaker in the ceiling. 'Oh, so you decided to start immediately, Jarvis?'

'No time like the present, sir.'

'Start _what _?' Tony honest to God stamped his foot, and Steve had to suppress a chuckle.__

'Apparently Jarvis is worried you'll give yourself a heart attack,' Steve still couldn't get over how sweet it was. 'So he's instituted a caffeine limit for you.'

'What are you teaching my AI?' Tony demanded, shoving his hands into his hair and pulling.

'Hey!' Steve folded his arms. 'He's been reading up on recommended intakes. I had nothing to do with this. And it's no one's fault but your own that your habits are so unhealthy a _robot _can get worried about you!'__

'Not a robot-' Jarvis started, but cut himself off when Steve and Tony both turned to glare at cameras.

When Steve turned back to Tony, he had to sigh at the shock and petulance warring on his face. Petulance, unfortunately, was winning. Rather than get into it, Steve levered himself to his feet and padded into the kitchen. He recalled seeing some tea in one of the cupboards; maybe a hot drink would soothe the savage engineer, even if it wasn't caffeinated.

****

'You haven't flipped out and killed him, have you? I mean, I wouldn't blame you, but I don't wanna have to help dispose of the body.'

Steve jumped, dropping his sketchpad, and twisted to face the door. 'Rhodey! Hi, I didn't know you were coming... or that you had a key.'

Rhodey gestured for him to stay seated, and jumped over the back of the couch to sit. 'Forgot I had it last time I came up. You settled in all right?'

Steve bent to pick up his pad, smoothing the pages absently. 'Yeah, it was great of Tony to let me move in; I can't even look at my old apartment without feeling a bit sick.'

'Not surprising,' Rhodey clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder. 'Creeper was _way _creepy.'__

Steve nodded, and the two of them sat there, silence slightly awkward to Steve, but he couldn't think how to break it.

'Good afternoon, Captain,' Jarvis said, a note in his voice that Steve had identified as his I'm-saving-you-from-yourself-with-snark interruption. Previously it had only been directed at Tony. 'Would you care for a beverage?'

'Uh, sure Jarvis,' Rhodey huffed a laugh. 'Soda would be good. They in the fridge?'

'Affirmative, Captain,' Rhodey got up to head into the kitchen. 'But the caffeinated ones are in the locked compartment. Please tell me which you desire, and I shall retrieve it for you.'

'You what,' Rhodey froze mid-step, and looked at Steve. 'What?'

Steve shrugged. 'Jarvis is worried about Tony's caffeine consumption, so he got me to install a dispenser to stick the coke in a couple of weeks ago, and he's limiting Tony's coffee to three a day when he's here. So Tony's spending a lot of time at Remy's.'

He hated how mournful that last part came out, but he couldn't seem to help it. He hardly ever saw Tony now, except in passing.

'Indeed, Captain,' Jarvis flicked around the living room speakers, humming in contemplation. 'I believe this attempt was unsuccessful. I will remove the cap on the coffee machine immediately.'

'He's still seeing LeBeau?' Rhodey folded his arms, scowling. 'God, I think I'd take _Von Doom _over that!'__

'Perhaps a reasoned presentation of my rationale would be more successful,' Jarvis hummed again. 'What do you think, Captain?'

'Um, sure,' Steve glanced at the camera aimed at him. 'I'm sure if you just explained why you need biometrics, Tony'd get them.'

'It may be necessary to obfuscate,' the camera zoomed, its whir startlingly loud, and Steve took an automatic step back, swearing. 'Apologies. Would it be all right with you if I present it as concern for _your _well-being rather than Mr Stark's?'__

'Well, Tony's stupidly resistant to concern for his health,' Rhodey put in. 'So that's probably the only way to get him to install the damn things. Steve, you want a drink?'

Steve dropped back onto the couch, throwing the sketch pad onto the coffee table. 'Only if it's forty proof.'

'I think we can manage that,' Rhodey dug around in the cupboard, and came up with a bottle of Wild Turkey. 'Jesus Christ, is he channelling his inner teenage girl? Jarvis, we'll need the coke after all.'

****

'So, cher,' Remy said, collapsing back into the pillows. 'Not that I mind the company, but you ever goin' home?'

Tony groaned, and made a spirited attempt to smother himself before Remy confiscated the pillow. 'They're ganging up on me, the traitorous bastards.'

'Who are?' Remy props himself on an elbow to smirk down at Tony's no-doubt childishly petulant expression. 'And how?'

'They gave me a _quota _for caffeine!' he's still fuming about that, and the child lock on the fucking refrigerator...__

Remy poked him hard in the side. 'I asked _who _as well.'__

'Urgh,' Tony inchwormed away from Remy's finger. 'My roommate and my AI, OK? Apparently I drink too much caffeine and they got all supernanny on me. If I go back, I'll just have Steve following me all gigantic disappointed eyes and Jarvis giving me lip through the coffee maker.'

'Sounds like they just want t' keep you healthy,' Remy swung a leg over Tony's waist, pinning him when he tried to get up. 'And y' do drink an awful lot of coffee. Comin' from a Cajun that should tell you somethin'.'

Tony glared at him, half-heartedly trying to shove the leg off. 'I don't need a blond Adonis trailing around after me _judging _me for my _perfectly legitimate _and _necessary _intake of stimulants! I'm an engineer for crying out loud! We run on caffeine and anger, it's a scientific fact!'______

Remy stared at him, expression unreadable. 'Oh, cher.'

'What?' Tony twitched under the scrutiny. ' _What _'oh cher'? What?!'__

Remy sighed. 'Nothin', cher. Let me whoop y' ass at strip poker again?'

'You know,' Tony folded his arms, deciding to let whatever that had been go. 'If you want me naked, you just have to ask.'

Remy grinned, pushing off the bed and padding out towards the kitchen. 'Cher, it's much better if I _win _the naked.'__

Tony glared at his back, and shouted 'I think I'm insulted! I'm totally hot enough that people _beg _me to get naked! I'm so hot it should be impossible to make it _better _!'____

'And yet, it can,' Remy replied. There was the sound of a cork popping out of a bottle. 'You too insulted to have a glass o' wine?'

Tony stomped mock-angrily after Remy. 'I'm _so insulted _,' he grabbed the open bottle. 'That I'll drink _all _your wine. You don't get any!'____

Remy shrugged. 'Fine. Make it even less of a challenge t' win all y'clothes, cher.'

Tony spluttered. 'I am _EXTREMELY _challenging to beat, I'll have you know!'__

Remy licked his lips, grinning again, and held out a deck of cards. 'Prove it, cher.'

****

Wild Turkey wasn't as bad as all that, Steve decided after the third glass. He'd still never buy it, but it was better than a lot of things he'd drunk, especially the sorts of things Bucky had turned up with when they were teenagers. And Rhodey was very good company; he was the perfect companion for watching hockey, too. Not too invested in the result, but interested enough to pay attention.

They sat in mostly-silence, working their way slowly through the bottle, until the post-game nonsense started. Rhodey say back, flicking the TV to mute and smiled across at Steve. 'Tony hardly ever watches sports with me. And when he does, he gets distracted halfway through to go design a better fuel injection system, or an experimental stealth jet. He tried to build rocket boots during the Super Bowl one year, too. Nearly burnt the frat house down, but luckily everyone just thought the idea was awesome.'

'You've known him a while?' Steve asked, noting the fond smile Rhodey got every time he mentioned Tony, even when he was complaining about him.

Rhodey huffed a laugh. 'I was a sophomore, running late for a physics lecture when something flew about an inch in front of my face, then this little asshole came barrelling out of an office, yelling at me for where had his rocket gone?' Rhodey shook his head. 'Little punk was building a miniature jet in his thesis-advisor's office. So I skipped the lecture entirely, and we chased a fucking glorified bottle rocket all through the building. We got arrested by campus police together, spent the night in the drunk tank, scrawling the designs on the floor with a sharpie to figure out what he'd done wrong, and wound up sticking to each other like glue from then on. The Police Chief threw a party when he finally graduated.'

Steve laughed. He could just see Tony being the bane of campus police's lives. 'What sort of trouble did the two of you cause?'

Rhodey drew himself up, clearly affecting dignity. 'I was hardly ever anything other than an innocent bystander, drawn in when the little maniac lost control of everything in a ridiculous explosion of bullshit.'

'Come on, Rhodey,' Steve leant over to give them both refills. 'You've got to have a few stories. I'll tell you about the time Bucky and I got picked up by the gendarmes stark naked if you want.'

'Sargent Barnes, right?' Rhodey asked carefully. 'You guys grew up together?'

Obviously Rhodey had done a bit of research after they'd met. Steve shrugged. 'Yeah. Just a few blocks away from here, actually. He's living in England now. Lost his arm in Afghanistan.'

Rhodey gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. 'You don't seem the type to go streaking.'

Steve chuckled. 'We weren't. Bucky had the bright idea to go skinny dipping in the hotel pool when we were in Paris on leave, and we were both just drunk enough to forget to bring our key cards or towels. When a family came down to have a dip, there was all this screaming and shouting, and we just ran. Only the kid was between us and our clothes, so we wound up bolting naked through the foyer and into the service lift.'

Rhodey blinked. 'What time was it?'

'Middle of lunch,' Steve felt his face heat. 'There were about twenty elegantly-dressed older couples walking through the foyer towards the restaurant. They, um... a few of them slapped our asses as we ran past. Bucky was all for going back to do a victory lap, but I was too embarrassed.'

Rhodey laughed so hard he started crying. 'Oh, Jesus, man! You're lucky it was France!'

'We got picked up by the gendarmes hiding behind one of those giant pot plants hotels have in the halls, and got a lecture from a kindly old officer about where the bath houses could be found if we wanted to let off steam, and could we refrain from shocking the tourists,' Steve giggled at the memory, and quoted in a probably-terrible accent ''Americans, you know,' he said, 'Zey are so uptight. Now you boys go find some mam'selles to show a good time'. And he winked, lent us some clothes from I don't know where, and sent us off without reporting it to the MPs.'

He and Rhodey looked at each other, and collapsed together, shaking with laughter.

'Shit,' Rhodey gasped, wiping a tear away. 'Fucking hell, that was lucky. Oooh, ow. Laughed too hard, I think you made me pull something.'

'So,' Steve nudged Rhodey in the ankle with his foot. 'You and Tony ever do anything like that?'

Rhodey shook his head. 'Tony's still the MIT record-holder for naked arrests, but I was too smart to be there for any of 'em. Charles told you about the Lamborghini, right?'

Steve shook his head.

'Huh,' Rhodey frowned. 'That's usually the first thing he tells people Tony introduces him to. It's how we met Pepper: Tony hot wired his own car because he couldn't be bothered to look for the keys at the end of Thor's 'Hooray It's Now Summer Everyone Rejoice At My Temporary Summer Residence' party, only somehow he'd got the gear box mucked up when he was fiddling around with it, so instead of reversing out of the garage, he drove through the garage wall and into the next door neighbours' pool.'

Steve ran a hand over his face. 'What.'

'I know, right?' Rhodey grinned. 'So next door comes out, wearing a fluffy, sparkly pink robe and tears Tony to _shreds _for waking the house up, and 'who's going to pay to get this fixed, you shit head' and how was Dannika, or something, supposed to get her morning swim now? And Tony's just sitting there, blinking stupidly, and he says, I shit you not, 'hey honey, wanna ride in my Lamborghini?'!'__

'Wow,' Steve really couldn't picture Pepper in a fluffy robe of any description, let alone a sparkly one. 'What did she throw at him?'

'A deck chair,' Rhodey broke down laughing again. 'Burst his forehead open, and then she went into repentant mother hen mode, dragged him into her kitchen and patched him up. When Charles and I found them, having followed the trail of destruction, they were sitting on the kitchen bench, swinging their legs and drinking cocoa. And Tony was wearing her robe.'

_That _Steve could picture easily. Steve watched Rhodey's face, eyes distant and happy as he reminisced. Steve thought back to what Tony had said in Charles's bar about never having tried to date Rhodey, and swallowed. How could Tony think Rhodey didn't love him? It was so _obvious _.____

Remy was nice, Steve frowned at his glass. Remy was great, from what he's seen, but Tony had been clear with everyone that it was just a bit of fun. They weren't serious, just friends with benefits, and this whole time Tony had been ignoring how he and Rhodey felt about each other.

'For a genius, he's pretty stupid sometimes,' he muttered.

'True that,' Rhodey laughed. 'Dumbest genius around. He drove into Pepper's pool the two following years, too. I think he thought it would be some sort of charmingly boyish prank tradition, but he was bright enough to come up with excuses when Pepper's Must Kill Tony face appeared. Not bright enough not to do it, though.'

Steve laughed dutifully, but the problem of Tony's blindness to what was on offer was too distracting for him to really enjoy it. He had to do something, he told himself. Tony deserved to be happy, and Rhodey was brilliant. They just needed to see that they felt the same way about each other; to see how great they could have it. Tony was never going to want Steve, and that was fine.

Steve sighed. Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he'd start to believe it. At the very least, though, he wasn't going to get between Tony and Rhodey. He could be happy for them; he'd get over his own infatuation eventually. What really mattered was getting Tony and Rhodey together.

He'd start planning _how _to do that tomorrow.__


	16. Chapter 16

Tony stepped out of Remy's building, sliding his shades on and wondering whether to head to Charles's bar or back to his own place, when the unmistakable sound of a shutter whirring caught his attention.

He looked around, and was mildly impressed to see the kid from the bar hanging half out of a tree, at least ten feet off the ground. Tony shaded his eyes and called up 'You OK there, kid?'

The kid grinned, and let go of his branch. Tony rushed forward, heart in his throat, but the kid executed a sort of mid-air twist and landed neatly on the pavement. He threw his arms out. 'Ta-DAH!'

Tony slowed his approach, stopping a few steps away and shoving his hands in his pockets. 'Peter, right?'

Peter nodded, lifting his camera with a questioning expression. 'Smile?'

Tony obligingly gave his best red-carpet grin, turning a few times, playing it up. Peter kept shooting, affecting an appalling French accent, and shouting instructions Tony was pretty sure came from Zoolander.

'You're a tigerrrr,' Peter lost it when Tony mimed a sexy cat roar, and had to brace his hands on his knees. 'OK, OK, stop. That was fun.'

Tony found he was laughing too. He held out a hand. 'Show me?'

Peter looked uncertain for a moment, then slung the strap over his head and handed the camera over. 'Sure. But you break it, you buy me the model two up from this, this year's range.'

'Sure,' Tony said easily. He flicked through the pictures, back past the stalker shots from the tree to find some candid shots of Peter's friends. 'These are really good. _Really _good.'__

Peter rubbed an embarrassed hand over the back of his head, and stared at Tony through his eyelashes. 'Thanks.'

Tony stared down at a shot of a beautiful blonde laughing at the camera, then a shot of an older lady concentrating on a crossword puzzle. He cocked his head, thinking hard. 'You like workin' for Jameson?'

Peter snorted. 'It's entertaining, and keeps some food within spitting distance of my table. But I'm not married to the job, no.'

Tony grinned, thumbing the camera off and slinging its strap over his shoulder. 'Join me for a coffee, kid?'

Peter glanced nervously at the camera. 'Uh... why?'

Tony threw his arms wide. 'I'm gonna offer you a job.'

****

Pepper was breathing hard when she answered the phone, gasping a 'Hello? Tony?'

Tony whistled long and low. 'Did I interrupt you and Happy? What're you wearing? Tell me it's nothing. Ooh, no! Tell me it's a string of pearls and a smile!'

Pepper ignored him, the sounds of buttons being pressed coming over the line. 'Is this important? I'm halfway through a set.'

'Ooh, sweaty gym clothes,' Tony grinned. 'Come on, switch to video chat!'

'I'm hanging up, Tony,' she wouldn't, really. Tony could hear the suppressed laugh in her voice.

'I've hired a photographer,' he blurted, switching ears when her pointed silence lengthened past the minute mark. 'For your wedding, you know?'

'Tony,' Pepper started, a definite note of _I'm most certainly not going to shout but I really want to _in her voice.__

'Pep, Pepper, hey Pep,' Tony said quickly, lifting a hand automatically to hold off the lecture. 'As a _backup _, for candid shots around the reception. He's really good, Pep, and this lets me rescue someone from the clutches of J Jonah Asshat-'__

'OK, OK,' Pepper had given up on fighting the laughter. 'Fine. Rescuing people from the Bugle is admirably charitable of you. Do I get to meet him?'

Tony glanced through the cafe's window at Peter, who was looking a little shell-shocked and picking a blueberry muffin the size of his head into tiny pieces, scattering the crumbs over the equally-oversized plate.

'Sure,' he said. 'You free for lunch?'

There was a gusty sigh. 'All right, Tony,' she was silent for a few seconds. 'I'll meet you at Charles's in forty-five minutes.'

'Great!' Tony grinned again. 'See you there!'

Peter looked up when Tony came back in, half getting to his feet. 'Do I-'

'Get your stuff, kid,' Tony cut him off. 'I'm taking you to lunch.'

'Er,' Peter blinked. 'OK.'

****

'They do _lunch _?' Peter froze at the door. 'Tell me Erik doesn't cook it; I'd like to keep my diet free of both strychnine and organs, if it's all the same.'__

'You haven't lived until you've eaten deep-fried haggis,' Tony slung an arm around Peter's shoulders, dragging him inside by main force. 'But calm yourself, young Padawan. Erik has a fundamental objection to food preparation. Charles gets one of his sister's friends to deliver.'

'Oh,' Peter stopped digging his heels in. 'OK then.'

'Don't relax too much,' Tony said as he pushed the door open. 'Erik'll still be here.'

He dragged Peter through the door and they both bounced off Erik's chest.

'You,' Erik said to Tony, folding his arms. 'Haven't you got some hot blond waiting at home for you? I'm not letting you chat this twelve-year-old up in my bar.'

'First of all,' Tony considered shaking a finger at Erik, but decided he valued having ten of them too much. 'I am dating Remy, not Steve, and secondly, this is a business lunch! For business things!'

Erik looked unconvinced, until the door swung open again to admit Pepper. Then he harumphed, stepping aside.

Pepper raised her eyebrows at Tony, sliding a disapproving gaze to Tony's arm's position around Peter's shoulder. Tony held out for all of ten seconds before he removed his arm, pretending he'd meant to the whole time. From Pepper and Erik's expressions, he wasn't fooling anyone.

'Hi, Pepper!' he bulled forward, eeling his way over so Peter was between him and Erik. 'This is Peter Parker, poor little waif to be rescued from the cruel claws of J Jonah Jerkface,' he slid his arm around Pepper's waist as he pointed her towards Peter's mildly offended face. 'And you remember Erik the Terrifying, bane of hipsters' lives through his cruel loyalty to Charles. This is Pepper Potts, kid. Conjure with her name at your peril.'

He got three matching looks of reluctant amusement, which he basked in for a moment before pushing past Erik to the main bar. He claimed the central booth, resting an arm along the top of the seat and waiting expectantly for the others to join him.

Erik's hipster fangroup were mournfully haunting the end of the bar, glaring at Pepper as she made unnecessary and fruitless excuses for Tony. Tony wiggled a few fingers at them, blowing a kiss at the sour one who turned the glare briefly towards him.

'Stop that,' Pepper said, sliding into the booth opposite him.'And give me the basics while the child prodigy is trying to persuade Erik to give him our drinks.'

Tony placed Peter's camera on the table in front of her. 'Take a look. Kid's really good, and his shots have personality.'

Pepper switched it on, and browsed the photos, shooting Tony the number 3 disappointed glance (not serious, but you ought to try acting your age before you forget how) when she saw the most recent shots.

Tony turned his attention back to the room, laughing under his breath as Peter tried to bargain with Erik, and the hipsters did everything short of hissing at him like enraged cats.

'Tony,' Charles appeared over the back of the booth, apparently standing on the bench of the booth behind Tony, bracing his elbows beside Tony's head. 'And Pepper. A little early for you to be joining our boy, isn't it?'

'Tony's found a photographer to adopt,' Pepper pursed her lips. 'And I'm inclined to let him.'

Tony twisted to ruffle Charles's hair, and Erik's eyes snapped onto him. Tony got the impression that if there were three fewer people in the bar, Erik would have vaulted the bar to stop him by any means necessary.

'Is that Peter?' Charles peered across the bar, then clambered over the divide, dropping into the seat beside Tony. 'Why are you colluding with the Amazing Child Paparazzo?'

Tony caught Erik's slightly-closer-to-psychotic-than-a-moment-ago glance, and shuffled as far away from Charles as the booth allowed. 'He told me his Oliver Twist origin story, and I caved like a cheap polystyrene cave.'

Charles laughed at him, grinning over at Erik, then stole the camera from Pepper.

'Wow,' he said when he'd flicked through twenty or so photos. 'If I'd known he was this good, I'd've hired him for bar promotions. But Tony, you gotta stop doing Blue Steel. That movie was ages ago.'

Tony flipped him off as Peter appeared with a tray of drinks.

'Erik wouldn't let me choose anything,' he said sadly as he distributed vodka and sodas to Tony, Pepper and Charles, leaving something luminously purple and fizzy for himself. 'So no offence, Tony, but next time you're going up.'

'I laugh long and hard at your delusions that he'd do anything different for me,' Tony tossed his straw on the table, swallowing about half his glass in one go. 'If you want any hope of a grown-up drink, it'll have to be Pepper. Charles shares his boyfriend's terrible sense of humour.'

Charles grinned, unrepentant. 'Twelve-year-olds get teeny bopper drinks. House rule.'

'What've you got that delinquent serving for lunch today?' Tony considered his drink for a moment, then threw the remainder back.

' _Alex _,' Charles said pointedly. 'Has brought some wonderful Guinness pies, a fritata, and some sort of apparently-vegan soup.'__

'Hah!' Tony pointed at him. 'Caving to the hipsters, are we? _Vegan soup _,' he muttered derisively.__

Charles sighed. 'They just don't look like they eat enough, and I feel bad.'

'Urgh, you appalling mother hen,' Tony stole Charles's untouched drink. 'That's natural selection in action. You shouldn't be interfering with natural selection. Wasn't that your whole area of focus back before you had your nervous breakdown out of academia?'

Charles shot him an unconvincing glare. 'Genetics and mutation, I know you know it. And it wasn't a ' _nervous breakdown _',' he flipped exaggerated air-quotes at Tony. 'I simply didn't feel that the current direction academia is taking suited what I had hoped to be doing. Also, the Dean was a dickhead.'__

Peter choked a laugh, coughing around the straw in his drink. 'Sorry, sorry.'

Pepper rubbed a hand on his back, patting in time with Peter's coughing. 'Fritata sounds nice.'

Tony muttered 'Vegan soup' again, then yelped as Pepper's pointy toe made contact with his ankle. 'The pie come with fries?'

Charles shrugged. 'I'm sure we can rustle some up. Peter?'

Peter was staring admiringly at Pepper, and Charles had to say his name twice more to get his attention.

'Oh, er,' he said, blushing. 'The pie? Yeah, pie sounds good.'

'All right,' Charles slid out of the booth. 'I'll go let Alex know.'

****

Twenty minutes later, Charles's delinquent chef stomped over to the booth and slammed their plates down, glaring at Tony.

'Hey,' Tony said, spreading his hands. 'I didn't know. And _clearly _he didn't either, so maybe getting your thumb out of your butt and saying something might be an idea.'__

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose. 'Hello, Alex. The food looks lovely as always.'

'Miss Potts,' Alex grunted, edges of his lips tilting almost imperceptibly up at her. 'Congratulations on the wedding.'

'Thank you, Alex,' Pepper smiled properly at him. 'Did you get the invitation?'

Alex blinked at her. 'You're inviting me?'

'Well,' Pepper picked her drink up to move it out of Tony's creeping reach. 'We only mailed them yesterday. But yes, you're invited. If I hadn't insisted, Happy would have; he still talks about that right hook you slung during... I'm sorry, is is 'golden gloves'? Much as I love Happy, boxing just isn't my sport.'

Alex downright grinned at that, and once again Tony marvelled at her ability to get people onside. A few more minutes of small talk, and Alex was honest to God _whistling _as he returned to the kitchen. As soon as he was gone, Tony yelped at the three short, sharp impacts on his ankle.__

'Jee- _zus _Pepper!' he pulled his leg up to rub at the bruise. 'You trying to do permanent damage?'__

Pepper just glared at him, so Tony buried his face in the fries.

'Do I want to know?' Peter asked, glancing between their faces and looking uncertain.

'Genius here,' Pepper indicated Tony with a wave of fritata-covered fork. 'Slept with the boy Alex is madly in love with _at Alex's birthday party _.'__

Peter whistled. 'Just when you think the reputation must be exaggerated...'

'Oh, shut up,' Tony muttered. 'They weren't dating; they _still _aren't dating, and the delinquent hasn't even got up the courage to tell Hank how he feels. It's _not my fault _.'____

'For once,' Pepper nodded. 'Not so much your fault. But rubbing it in: that's entirely on you.'

She turned to Peter. 'Now, Peter. Tony is going to hire you as secondary photographer for my wedding, and I wholeheartedly endorse this on one condition.'

Peter looked like he was about to vibrate out of his chair. 'Anything!'

'You're going to sign an exclusivity contract with Tony, forbidding you from selling any shots of him or his friends to any magazine, newspaper, website or interested third party without written consent from Tony himself. You can keep working freelance for Jameson, just not with any uncleared shots of us,' she folded her hands. 'Does that suit you?'

'You forgot the retainer,' Tony put in, leaning back. 'I want you to be my own personal photographer, on payroll at a rate to be determined.'

Peter looked like someone had slapped him in the face with a large wad of cash. Which, Tony supposed, it must feel like. The kid dressed from op shops, for crying out loud.

'I'm still able to freelance other shots?' he asked when he'd recovered his voice.

'Sure,' Tony shrugged. 'But you won't _need _to if you don't want to. Pep'll get a contract drawn up by the end of the week, and you can look it over.'__

The pure joy that spread across Peter's face was almost uncomfortable to see. He really wasn't used to people being _that _happy with him.__

Tony got up and headed over to the bar and Erik's reassuring scornful disdain.

****

'Honey,' he called when he got back to his and Steve's apartment, dropping his keys on Pepper's handbag-table. 'I'm home!'

'Hey, Tony,' Rhodey called, not turning away from... was that Skyrim?

'Honey bear!' Tony bounded across the living room to sling his arms around Rhodey's shoulders, intentionally-accidentally button mashing the controller. 'Gumdrop! What brings you up to sunny New York?'

Rhodey flapped at him for a while before giving up on the game and quitting. 'You ass, I was worried since I haven't heard from you in weeks. And what's with leaving Steve alone with Jarvis to feed into each other's mother henning? Poor strategising, man.'

Tony somersaulted over the back of the couch, collapsing with his head in Rhodey's lap. 'They ganged up on me, Cap'n Crunch-'

'Stop just naming foods when you talk to me, I swear to God,' Rhodey grinned down at him, drumming his fingers over Tony's heart. 'So, you're still dating LeBeau.'

Tony clapped both his hands over Rhodey's. 'Aww, don't get like that snookums. You know you'll always be number one in my heart,' he laced his fingers through Rhodey's and closed his eyes. 'Anyway, it's not serious. He's already turned down the invitation as my date to the wedding.'

'Good,' Rhodey muttered. 'Still don't like him.'

'I could still track down Viktor's number,' Tony grinned. 'King of Latveria's got to be easy to track down.'

Rhodey flicked his ear viciously. 'He's still on the veto list, Tony. Don't test me on this.'

'Ow, Jesus!' Tony sat up, clutching the side of his head and staring in as wounded a manner as he could manage. 'Fine! I've still got that conditional OK from Maria to fall back on; I'm not that desperate!'

'All right, then.'

'Man, domestic abuse PSAs never covered this,' Tony muttered, picking up a tablet from the coffee table and skimming over the blueprints he'd left up.

What was this? A self-driving car? In what world had _that _seemed a good idea? He dragged the file to the trash.__

'Hey, where's Steve?' he squinted around the room as though six foot three of muscular blond might be hiding behind the curtains. 'Hah! Bad hosting, Steve! Just leave your guest with a pile of video games and wander off?'

' _Your _guest, Tony,' Steve said from the bathroom door, and Tony almost fell off the couch. 'And I was getting the laundry together to do it.'__

'How many times do I have to say it?' Tony glared at Rhodey, who wasn't even pretending not to laugh. 'Cleaning crew. I pay exorbitant prices to get someone else to come in and deal with dirty gym socks.'

Steve levelled an unimpressed glare at him, and marched into the kitchen. 'Jarvis and I have decided to let you kill yourself with caffeine if you're determined that's the best way to go.'

'So...' Tony climbed to his knees, resting his elbows on the back of the couch. 'The ridiculous child locks on my kitchen are gone?'

'Jarvis would like you to consider installing the biometric sensors anyway,' Steve came out, bearing three cups of coffee, and handing one into Tony's grabby hands with a disapproving expression. 'He's got as much monitoring capability as is possible without equipment upgrades, he says.'

'Yeah?' Tony sipped the coffee, blissing out. He'd programmed Jarvis to do it to his exact specifications, after all. 'Why's he need any more than visual and auditory?'

Steve shrugged, and Jarvis made a clearing-throat noise that was just. The most precious thing, Tony coughed to stop himself cooing.

'Sir, if I might speak with you in private?' Jarvis said.

Tony frowned, but apparently Rhodey and Steve thought everything was normal, so he climbed over the couch, patting Steve on the shoulder in thanks. 'OK, Jarvis. Meet you in the coffee maker?'

He moved into the kitchen, watching as Steve took his place on the couch, and Rhodey restarted his game. It was weird, seeing the two of them together. Weird, but good, he decided.

'OK, Jarvis,' he drained the last of the coffee and held it out for a refill. 'Thrill me.'

'Captain Rogers has been experiencing some disturbed sleep patterns recently,' Jarvis murmured over the trickle of coffee. 'If I had the capacity to monitor his heart rate, breathing and brain waves, I would be able to intervene before it became a full-blown nightmare.'

'Steve's having bad dreams?' Tony frowned at the doorway. 'How often?'

'He does not tend to sleep very much, but I have detected at least ten separate instances over the past month where he has been woken violently and been unable to settle for the rest of the night, sir.'

'Damn,' Tony scowled at his coffee. 'OK, Jarvis: you win. Order what you need, and I'll set it up. On the condition that you let me know if it continues.'

'As you say, sir,' Jarvis replied, an approving note in his voice.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, took a while to get this chapter out. Sorry for the wait, and we're in the home stretch now so not too much longer /o\

'Cher,' Remy's voice greeted him when Tony answered the call. 'Can you spare an hour?'

'Don't think we can get much done in an hour,' Tony replied, slotting another memory board into place, and swapping hands for the handset. 'But sure. Your place?'

'Sure,' Remy said. 'I'll be here.'

Tony ended the call, staring at the phone for a moment before shaking his head. 'Steve?'

'Yeah?' Steve stuck his head out of his bedroom, a streak of blue paint smudged from his cheekbone into his hair.

'I'm going out for a while,' Tony said, dusting his hands off and keeping his gaze firmly above clavicle. 'You want me to pick up anything on the way back?'

Steve waved a hand. 'Nah, I'm fine.'

He ducked back into his room, and Tony muttered 'yes you are,' before pinching himself and going to find a clean shirt.

****

'I take it this wasn't a quickie booty call,' Tony said when Remy answered the door, face solemn and wearing his ten thousand dollar Saville Row. It wasn't exactly a shock, though Tony wouldn't claim it wasn't disappointing.

'Sorry, cher,' Remy gave him a wry smile, and stepped back to let Tony in. 'Marie turned up again.'

Tony whistled. 'Marie, huh?' Remy had, one drunken night after several hours of inventive sex, told Tony about The One Who Got Away And Then Turned Up Only To Disappear Again. And Again. 'Congratulations, Remy.'

Remy grinned, twirling to show off his outfit. 'You like? I'm taking her to dinner.'

'You're sure?' Tony studied Remy's face, feeling a little mournful at the unadulterated delight displayed. 'She's here for good?'

Remy shrugged, the Gallic in him on full display. 'If not, it'll be fun. And she always comes back to me, after all.'

Tony dragged Remy in for a hug. 'Of course she does,' he took a deep breath. 'Congratulations. We'll have drinks sometime, yeah? Bring Marie; you got me curious!'

Remy pulled back to cup Tony's face. 'Be happy, y'self.'

Tony grinned, wide as he could, and ducked in to press a final kiss against Remy's lips. 'Knock 'em dead, Tiger.'

Remy winked at him, and Tony left to let him get ready.

****

'I thought you were going to Remy's?' Steve looked startled to see him, but not displeased. Tony grinned ruefully and vaulted the couch to sit next to him.

'His lady-love has returned,' Tony hoped his voice was light. He really _was _happy for Remy, but it still felt like being dumped. 'So once again I'm thrown over for a better option. Que sera, and all that junk.'__

Steve's brow furrowed at that, his mouth opening to object, and Jesus. Tony just could not deal with anything Steve might have to say on this subject, so he just barrelled on.

'I figured I'd use the sudden free time to beat you senseless at Mario Kart,' he jerked off the couch to set the system up, flinging a controller towards Steve. 'Since you seem ideologically opposed to anything more gritty.'

'Why would I want to murder virtual hookers?' Steve was _so totally _playing up the Luddite bit, and someday Tony was going to get him to admit that he was actually functional in the 21st century. 'Or engage in unsafe driving practices? I've got you for that in the real world.'__

'Was that-' Tony gaped at him. 'Did you just burn me? Jarvis! Steve just found his trash talk mode!'

'Indeed, sir?' Jarvis said through the TV speaker. 'I would have thought that he was merely stating the fact that your driving habits are less than optimally safe.'

'Ganging up on me!' Tony yelled, shoving at Steve's giant shoulder and glaring at several of Jarvis's cameras. 'I swear, I'm gonna have to find some better friends.'

'I could call Rhodey to come comfort you,' Steve said, an oddly careful tone in his voice. 'I think he's still in the city.'

Tony turned to stare at him. 'That's OK, Captain Feelings. I think I'll live.'

Steve heaved an irritated sigh and sat back. 'I don't think you-'

'What is _with _you and Rhodey?' Tony demanded, twisting to face Steve. 'You don't need me around to get all buddy with him, you know. He's your friend too; I'm sure he's perfectly happy to hang out with you regardless of whether or not I'm around.'__

Steve folded his hands into his lap and stared at them for a long time. Tony waited, doing his best not to fidget.

'I just,' Steve shrugged, but kept staring at his hands. 'He's your best friend. Maybe you want to hang out with him?'

'More the merrier, I always say,' Tony leered, hoping to break the weird tension, then snapped his fingers, sitting bolt upright. 'A party! I'll throw a party!'

'OK?' Steve looked up, finally, shooting Tony a confused smile. 'What's the occasion?'

'The occasion,' Tony said, leaping to his feet to hunt down his phone. 'Is that I haven't thrown a party in about a year.'

****

The party winds up what Steve would classify as 'out of control', and he really doesn't want to know what Tony's parties used to be like if _this _counts as discreet.__

He'd spent over an hour trying to herd Tony towards Rhodey, but every time he got them within spitting distance of each other, some smirking man or bejewelled woman would sweep in. Steve spent a good ten minutes in the bathroom after losing Tony to a busty blonde in shiny white lingerie pulling frustrated faces at the mirror. He was _this far _from shoving them in the hall closet and calling 'seven minutes in heaven'.__

'You OK in there?' Clint called through the door, and Steve heaved a sigh. Clint seemed to have decided that it was his duty to get Steve to drink his own body weight in tequila. It was either to get his mind off Tony, or he'd made some shady bet involving Steve's tolerance levels. With Clint, it was impossible to tell.

'Fine,' Steve called, unlocking the door and catching Clint with one hand when he stumbled forward. 'Having fun?'

Clint shoved yet another shot glass towards Steve's face and took a pull from his beer. 'You know,' he said thoughtfully as Steve swallowed. 'You could talk just about any one of these honeys into doing body shots with you.'

Steve wrinkled his nose, pulling Clint back towards the living room. 'I don't think so.'

'Seriously?' Clint squinted into Steve's face. ' _How _are you not drunk yet? I've personally poured more than half a bottle of _very _good tequila into you tonight.'____

'Muscle mass?' Steve shrugged, hiding a grin at Clint's petulant face. 'Shouldn't you be pouring tequila into your boyfriend? By body shots or otherwise?'

Clint huffed. 'Phil vetoed body shots. And chocolate sauce.'

'There is a standing ban on foodstuffs in the bedroom,' Phil appeared seemingly out of nowhere. 'But I never said anything about other rooms.'

Clint's face lit up, and Steve looked away. Tony was laughing, head tipped back, at something the blonde from before was saying. Steve watched Tony's throat working, biting his lip hard enough to hurt.

'Sorry, what?' he wrenched his attention back to Clint and Phil, feeling his face flame.

Clint and Phil shared a look, and Clint said 'I guess that answers that. What _is _it you've been trying to do all night? It's to do with Stark, but if you're not making a play for him-'__

'He's in love with Jim,' Steve ran a hand through his hair. 'And it's reciprocated. I'm just trying to get them to _realise _.'__

'I'm pretty sure Stark's ridden that pony around the park more than once,' Clint said, sceptical expression firmly in place. 'And it's just buddy fucking.'

'No, see!' Steve leaned in, shaking a strident finger at the pair of them. 'I have it straight from Tony that they've never; _and _he thinks Jim's straight.'__

'He'd know,' Phil put in, with a significant raising of eyebrows. 'I don't think Stark's in love with _Jim _.'__

Steve didn't know what Phil was getting at with the eyebrow thing, so he ignored it. 'I see Jim,' he excused himself to Clint and Phil, making his way through the throng.

****

'Carol!' Tony dived towards her as she came past, thanking the Universe for providing him with an excuse to run away from Emma. He got the feeling every time he spoke to her that she was staring at the inside of his head and undecided as to whether or not to eat it. 'My God, you're looking ravishing!'

Carol raised an eyebrow and a corner of her mouth at him, submitting to his embrace with good humour. 'Hello, Tony. I thought I heard a rumour you were staying _out _of the spotlight.'__

Tony grinned, slinging an arm around her waist as Peter wandered past, shutter whirring happily. 'Hey, this is as low-key as I get. You got a date for the wedding yet?'

'I am _absolutely not _attaching my name to yours for a wedding, Stark,' Carol slipped her own arm around his shoulders, taking the sting out of her words. 'Especially as I'm a bridesmaid.'__

'Ooh,' Tony led her towards the bar, exchanging greetings with a few people on the way. 'What sartorial horror is Pepper foisting on you? Are there frills?'

Carol shuddered theatrically. 'There will be if your mother has her way. Pepper's fighting a rear-guard action to get the whole wedding party looking classy, but your mother has some very specific ideas about the point of bridesmaids.'

'There to make the bride shine brighter in comparison?' Tony handed over a fresh beer, taking another for himself. 'Yeah.'

Carol smiled at him, hugging him closer for a moment. 'How're you holding up? Rhodey caught me up on your dad.'

Tony heaved a sigh, letting his hand wander a little lower on Carol's back. She twitched an eyebrow at him, but didn't snap his hand off at the shoulder, which only went to prove that she was _really _feeling sorry for him.__

'My enforced holiday ends when we send the happy couple off to the airport, so I think I'm the only one not directly involved who desperately wants for it to be W-day already,' Tony sipped at his beer, surveying his apartment idly.

Carol patted his shoulder, stepping slightly back. 'You want to go back?'

'What do you mean?' Tony blinked at her, absently waving at Steve as he headed over.

'Well,' Carol flicked her hair, frowning down at her beer. 'SI's not doing any work in AI, except for your pet projects. They're much more geared towards the weapons manufacturing and tiny little consumer electronics. I always thought you'd eventually spin off on your own, get out from your dad's shadow.'

Tony could feel his jaw drop. He'd never even considered starting his own company. 'I can't run a start-up,' he protested. 'And who'll take over when Dad retires?'

Carol licked her lips and shrugged. 'Pepper's more than qualified to run a start-up. And you _know _she'd leave with you. And your father's never retiring, Tony. He's leaving that office feet-first and you know it. Look, it was just a suggestion. Think it over while you're bouncing off the walls in here.'__

Tony gaped at her until Steve elbowed his way past a couple of Charles's entourage, breathing a little heavily and looking hunted.

'Hi, Tony!' Steve smiled at them, though it was a little forced-looking. 'And Ms...?'

Carol looked him up and down slowly. ' _Tony _,' she said mock-shocked. 'I thought you were staying away from fresh meat?'__

'Don't mind Carol,' Tony flapped a hand. 'She struggles so as a woman in the Air Force.'

Steve, of course, straightened and offered his hand. 'Pleasure to meet you. Could I borrow Tony for a moment?'

Carol looked like she was fighting off laughter, so Tony slapped her butt and ducked around Steve. 'What did you want, Stars and Stripes?'

He dragged Steve past three separate congregations of revellers so Carol couldn't easily retaliate. Steve trailed behind him until they hit the edges of Rhodey's and Pepper's enclave.

'You're not taking Remy to the wedding, are you?' Steve plucked at his own sleeve, avoiding Tony's eyes.

'No-o-o,' Tony pulled a face. 'Are you really, _really _drunk? Did you take _any _drink from Erik? I'm pretty sure he sees both of us as expendable-'____

'I've only been accepting drinks from Clint,' Steve cut in, grabbing at Tony's shoulders with his huge, warm hands.

'Urgh,' Tony rolled his eyes. 'Just as bad.'

'Tony,' Steve said reprovingly. 'What I meant was, why don't you ask Rhodey to go with you?'

'Yeah, right,' Tony laughed. 'He'd never let me cramp his style that way. He's been talking about cruising on the bridesmaids ever since Pepper let on they were thinking about dating.'

Tony could just _see _Rhodey's face if he tried to pull some woe-is-me-I'm-single-please-go-stag-with-me-brother thing. It'd make Erik look positively fluffy.__

Steve frowned at him, an adorably blurry drunkenness bleeding through his apparent concern for Tony's dating prospects. Tony grinned at him, snatching a bottle of Moët from a passing Emma. She fixed a poisonous glare on him, and he resigned himself to years of torment before shoving the bottle at Steve.

'Drink!' he made shooing flappy motions between the bottle and Steve's face. 'And relax! Maria said she'd step up, remember? And if all else fails, you can be my stag date, right?'

Steve blinked at him and took a swig from the bottle, coughing a little as he swallowed.

'Yeah,' Tony snatched the bottle back and sniffed at it. 'Emma might have refilled this with something harder. Sorry about that.'

Steve waved his hand, blinking away tears. 'That's fine. Do you know _anyone _who's not fuelled by high proof liquor?'__

'Not as far as I know,' Tony smothered his laugh in the not-Champagne and elbowed Steve in the side.

Steve huffed a reluctant laugh and stole the bottle back.

****

'You're wrong, you know.'

Steve groaned, dragging the pillow off his face to stare blearily at Pepper. She stepped closer, perching on the edge of the coffee table and apparently studying him carefully.

'Wrong?' he scrubbed at his face, propping himself up on an elbow. 'Wrong about what?'

'Tony's not in love with Rhodey,' she pursed her lips. 'And Rhodey _certainly _isn't pining after Tony.'__

'You talked to Phil.'

Pepper shrugged. 'We've found that an unofficial sharing of information prevents about ninety per cent of fuck ups.'

Steve sank back against the cushions, rubbing at the itchy stubble coming out on his chin. 'You're sure? I mean, you've known them a lot longer than I have; are you _sure _.'__

Pepper gave him a small smile. 'Oh, yes. They love each other, sure,' she put a beautifully manicured hand on his wrist. 'But not romantically, Steve.'

'Oh,' Steve could feel a blush rising. 'OK. Thanks, I guess.'

Pepper's hand squeezed. 'I brought your invitation,' she dropped a white envelope on Steve's stomach, and grinned at his confusion. 'For the wedding.'

'You're inviting me?' Steve picked up the envelope; it was decadent heavy stock, and he could feel the ridges of embossing on the card inside. 'I... thank you?'

Pepper laughed. 'Of _course _you're invited. Let me know whether you're bringing a plus-one or not.'__

She stood up, bending over him to brush a kiss against his forehead. Steve gave her a wavy grin as she sashayed back towards the door.

He dropped his head back to the couch after the door closed again and blew out a long breath. He supposed he needed to go buy a suit now.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> miriad pointed out that 'Bucks and Hens' is not a thing found in the vocab of Americans, so I've swapped out 'Bachelor' and 'Bachelorette'. Thank you for pointing it out, and if there's anything else glaringly wrong with anything, please let me know! ^_^

Tony read over the list for about the ninetieth time, his thumb hovering over Clint's number in his phone. Despite his reassurances to Steve the other night, Tony didn't want to think he'd really given up on the list. He hadn't even tried a tenth of the potentials.

He sighed, and scrolled down to Maria's name instead.

'Hey darling,' he drawled when she answered.

'I take it you've had no luck finding a date,' she snapped. 'Fine. Pick me up from the Warwick Hotel on your way in.'

She hung up, and Tony pulled the phone away to stare at it.

'Better than expected,' he decided after a moment's contemplation.

****

Steve decided he'd spent too long staring at his phone already. He hit the call button before he could talk himself out of it.

'Hello?' Pepper's voice came through. 'Pepper Potts.'

'Uh, it's Steve,' Steve shuffled his feet. 'Is this a good time?'

'It's fine, Steve,' Pepper sounded like she was smiling. 'What can I do for you?'

Steve stared at the pile of canvases leaning against the wall, and made himself ask. 'That offer to find me a gallery. Does it still stand?'

****

_Tigra!! _was in an immense converted warehouse on the river. Steve shifted his grip on his portfolio and went to open the door.__

'Watch it!' hissed a woman standing right inside the door. Steve leapt awkwardly to one side as she heaved a statue half her size around, setting it down with a crash and spinning around to stare at him. 'I suppose you're Pepper's Steve.'

'Yes, that's me,' Steve tried to offer her his hand, but she ignored it in favour of seizing his portfolio and racing over to a desk. He stifled a grin and followed.

She hmm'd and flipped through the pages, just barely pausing once or twice, and Steve felt his heart sink. He glanced around, and spent a moment wondering why Pepper had sent him _here _. It was clearly a post-modernist gallery, nothing like Steve's paintings, though after the inevitable refusal he decided to spend some time over by the twisted cutlery sculpture and the screen printed _Dios Los Muertos _series.____

'Yes,' the woman snapped, flipping Steve's portfolio closed and folding her arms to glare at him. 'I'll take you.'

'Sorry, what?' Steve felt his mouth drop open. 'You'll show me?'

'That's what I said,' the woman snapped. 'In six weeks we start the new show. You'll need at least another four canvases to show, and standard runs of a hundred prints for each of them. I need the paintings by the Friday before, and the gallery takes a ten per cent commission.'

She jerked her head, flicking multicoloured, multi-length locks of hair flying. She was wearing cats' eye contacts, Steve realised, and her mildly crazy stare added to the feline aura.

'That sounds fantastic,' Steve managed after a few minutes of wild elation. 'I'm sorry, but Pepper didn't tell me your name-'

'It's Tigra,' she stepped forward, bristling. 'It's my place and I named it after me. That a problem?'

'Of course not,' Steve picked his portfolio up. 'Thank you. Thank you so much, Tigra.'

'Hrmph,' Tigra gave him a final once-over and turned away. 'Here by Friday.'

'Yes,' Steve couldn't help grinning at her back. 'Absolutely. Friday.'

He had a _show _!__

****

The first thing he did after he'd had a good look at the current show (and he was going to have to track down more of Piotr Rasputin's work; and Irene Adler's sculptures had been mesmerisingly creepy) was to ring Pepper and thank her profusely.

'Well,' Pepper said when Steve paused for breath. 'It also means Tigra owes me one, so it wasn't entirely altruistic, Steve. And I enjoy going to her shows; the food's always divine.'

'Oh,' Steve stopped in the middle of the pavement and had to apologise to a cranky businessman who ran into him. 'I just realised: the show starts a couple of weeks before the wedding. Won't you be too busy to see it?'

'Nonsense,' Pepper gave a delicate snort. 'Tony's mother's so keen on organising the whole wedding I've actually got very little to do other than turn up for tastings and turn up to all the massages and mani-pedis she keeps booking me. And I wouldn't miss it for the _world _.'__

Steve could feel the blush starting at about his navel. 'I suppose I'd better go and start on the new canvases,' he muttered.

'Yes,' Pepper laughed. 'She's fierce enough when she's happy; you don't want to see Tigra mad. Goodbye, Steve. I'm glad I could help.'

Steve ended the call, then stared at his hands in a budding panic. He had to finish another four canvases in a month. He bit back a moan, and ran for the subway.

****

Tony stumbled out of bed sometime after one-thirty to find the apartment in chaos.

'Did Old Holland come here to have a three-way with you and a pipe bomb?' he asked the back of Steve's head, spending a self-indulgent few moments smiling soppily at the disarrayed hair splattered with several different colours of paints in several stages of drying.

Steve whirled around and Tony took a half step back, thinking _Hello, crazy eyes _. 'You accidentally eat some lead-based paint?'__

'I have a show!' Steve, well _yelled _was the only accurate verb.__

'Hey, that's great!' Tony braved the rampant crazy and moved closer to clap Steve on the shoulder. 'You called Pepper after all, huh?'

Tony could see white _all around _Steve's irises, and even after a full minute, he hadn't seen him blink.__

'Uh, your eyes aren't drying out, are they?' Tony squinted at Steve's face. 'Are you having some kind of psychotic episode? Should I call someone? Jarvis! Who should I call for-'

'No, no,' Steve sort of jerked, finally blinking. 'It's just. I mean...' he sighed. 'The show's in five weeks, and Tigra wants another four canvases.'

'Pepper sent you to _Tigra _?' Tony couldn't help laughing. 'Jesus Christ, that's perfect. She didn't trip you up and have her way with you in front of her staff, did she?'__

'Is that an actual possibility?' Steve sounded a little strangled, and looked about three seconds away from going into shock, so Tony decided _not _to tell him how Tigra had made her way onto his list.__

'So you need four more paintings?' Tony threw his arms wide. 'Tell me how to help. You want a model? Want me to stay silent and invisible? Want me to provide food and coffee at regular intervals? Anything you need.'

He watched Steve's Adam’s apple bob like a buoy in a storm, and hastily shoved a grin onto his face. Wouldn't do to freak Steve out any further.

Steve stared down at him long enough for Tony to start feeling awkward, which in itself was a pretty novel feeling.

'You wouldn't mind sitting for me?' Steve said eventually, voice a little scratchy.

'Of course not,' Tony squeezed Steve's shoulder once more before letting his hand drop. 'You may not have noticed it, but I can be quite vain.'

Steve barked a laugh, running a hand through his hair. He wound up looking like a psychedelic hedgehog, but Tony thought the look suited him.

'OK,' Steve said, turning to his easel and making a dissatisfied noise. He bent and retrieved a sketchpad from the floor. 'OK, that's really nice of you, Tony. Have you got some time for preliminaries?'

'I am _entirely _at your disposal until eight,' Tony grinned, heading to the kitchen for coffee. 'Then you're coming with me to meet Happy and Pepper for Goddammit I'm Sick Of Planning The Wedding drinks. Although, that may be code for I'm So Fucking Sick Of Your Mother Tony drinks.'__

Apparently Steve had gotten used to Tony's ridiculous rambling, because all he did was drop onto the couch and start scraping charcoal over the page in long, sure strokes. Tony shifted, covering his almost certainly smitten grin with his coffee mug.

'How do you want me?' he asked when it was clear Steve wasn't going to give him directions.

'Uh,' Steve flushed a little. 'Just... do whatever you were going to do. I'll do some roughs, see if anything's worth painting. Just be natural; I don't want anything to look posed.'

'Gotcha,' Tony dropped to the floor, pulling a laptop closer. He needed to go over Jarvis's code anyway. See whether there were any commercial applications he could sell his Dad on. 'Kick me if you want me to move.'

He registered Steve's murmur of agreement before he turned all his attention to the code.

****

'Tony. Tony!'

Tony blinked, checked the clock on his screen and flopped over onto his back, groaning. On the plus side he'd gotten through almost all the code. But he'd apparently been working for six hours straight, which meant there wasn't time for more coffee if he wanted to be on time.

Or so he thought, until Steve's hand appeared with a fresh mug of coffee.

'You have to sit up for it, though,' Steve smiled down at him, and Tony felt confident in labelling that expression 'fond'. 'Is this drinks at Charles's again?'

Tony gulped down half the coffee in one go and levered himself to his feet. 'Of course. So Peter'll be there dangling from the light fixtures to get the best candids. Oh, and Charles declared it a private party, so there'll be hordes of mournful hipsters flocking outside pressing against the windows for a view of Erik.'

Steve rolled his eyes. 'They're harmless, Tony. You shouldn't be so mean to them.'

Tony fixed a disbelieving stare on him before glancing down at the sketchbook. 'You get anything usable?'

Steve grinned at him. 'Plenty, thank you. Do you mind if I trail after you for a while to see what else I can get?'

'Sure. Scribble away, Captain,' Tony twisted, trying to loosen his back. Steve stepped closer, setting his blazing hot hands on Tony's lower back and rubbing the stiffness out. Tony groaned, leaning back into the pressure and letting his eyes drift shut. He knew Steve just meant to be a friend, but Tony wasn't a good enough person to keep from letting his imagination run with the idea of more.

'We should probably leave now,' Steve murmured into Tony's ear when he'd worked all the tension away. Tony let himself imagine that there was a reluctance to Steve's step away, then took a hold of himself again and went to grab a coat.

****

The bar should've seemed empty with only twelve people in it, but it just felt spacious. Steve trailed behind Tony, mentally kicking himself for his lack of self-control. But he'd spent the whole afternoon staring at Tony; giving him a back rub when he'd winced had just felt natural.

'Jarvis!' Tony shrieked, dashing to an older man wearing a very nice suit. 'I meant to come by sooner, but-'

'Quite all right,' Jarvis says, and Steve had a moment of clarity about Tony's coffee maker-cum-virtual butler. 'I wouldn't have been able to spare much time for you recently. The wedding has ballooned into somewhat of a leviathan.'

Steve starts to edge away, he thought he saw Erik lurking by the pot plant and he had a vague notion of asking Erik to sit for him too, but Tony's hand snaked back and dragged him closer.

'This is Steve,' Tony's hand slid to rest at the small of Steve's back, and Steve was hard put to stay steady. 'Steve, this is Jarvis. The man practically raised me, and he makes the meanest oatmeal cookies around.'

'Pleasure, sir,' Steve held his hand out, smiling. Jarvis's eyes crinkled at the corners, and Steve decided to ask him to sit too.

'Just Jarvis is fine,' Jarvis's handshake was warm and friendly, and Steve felt suddenly very glad that Tony had had this man in his life. Howard had seemed... distant. 'I understand you are soon to be exhibited at Miss Tigra's gallery.'

Steve couldn't help the grin. 'I'm not sure it's sunk in yet; I only met her today.'

'Ahh,' Jarvis's eyebrows made a bid for his hairline. 'Then you are in for a very interesting experience. The lady is... spirited.'

'He means like an alley cat,' Tony interjected. 'Now, can I leave the two of you alone and set off to try and wrangle drinks out of Erik?'

Jarvis waved him off, and smiled fondly at Tony's back. 'What medium do you work in, Steve?'

Steve turned his attention from the view back to Jarvis, and started telling him about his art.

****

After doing the rounds (such as they were), Tony took advantage of Carol and Natasha forming a terrifying cabal with Pepper to seize Happy by the elbow and drag him over to Steve and Jarvis. Happy huffed an almost-silent laugh, but went willingly.

'I do believe you haven't met Happy yet, Steve,' Tony said when the two men turned to greet him and Happy. 'I just had to rectify the situation.'

'Congratulations,' Steve smiled, wide and warm. 'She's a heck of a woman.'

'She sure is,' Happy shook Steve's hand, and moved to one side so he could gaze adoringly at Pepper. Tony grinned at the sickening sweetness of it.

'So,' Tony clapped his hands, dragging Happy's attention back to him. 'I'm going to be your best man. You really couldn't have anyone else organising the Bachelor Party, so I decided I'm going to step up. Oh, hey!' he turned away from Steve's confused frown. 'Rhodey! I gotta go see him.'

****

'Uh,' Steve stared at Tony's back as he darted across the bar. 'Wow. He didn't even phrase it like a question. I'm sorry?'

Happy laughed at him. 'Only Tony is responsible for Tony. I was going to ask him weeks ago, but Pepper pointed out that it's much easier to get him to do things when he thinks he's getting his own way.'

Steve thought for a moment. 'Yeah, OK. I can see that. Uh, can I get you drinks? I think I see Erik.'

Happy waggled a mostly-full bottle of beer at Steve, shaking his head. Jarvis smiled at him, and said 'If he can find something resembling a Sangiovese, I'll take a glass.'

Steve grinned and headed towards Erik, who seemed to be lurking in the shadows near where his fanclub normally gathered.

'Not friends with any of this lot?' he asked, switching to German for the practice. He didn't get much chance to keep his skills fresh these days.

Erik shrugged a shoulder and stomped behind the bar, motioning for Steve to follow him. 'The redhead strikes me as trouble.'

'Which one?' Steve glanced around. Pepper could, he supposed, be termed 'trouble', but Erik had seemed to like her at brunch.

'The Russian one,' Erik pursed his lips. 'Russians are always trouble, and the women are worst.'

'Uh, OK?' Steve stared towards Pepper and her friends, and jumped when the shorter redhead pivoted to stare back. 'Huh. I think I see what you mean.'

Erik glared in the women's direction for a moment longer, then snorted. 'Did you want a drink, Steve?'

'Jarvis wanted a Sangiovese if you have it,' Steve bent over to study the bottles under the bar. 'And I think I'll let you surprise me. But not the psychedelic tequila.'

'I have some LSD-laced brandy if you prefer,' Erik said blandly, squatting to rummage through bottles of wine before finding what he was after. 'Or genuine absinthe. I'd advertise its presence, but I think your Tony would go through my entire stock in one weekend, and it is difficult to obtain.'

Steve considered protesting that Tony wasn't _his _, but what was the point, really?__

'Would you consider letting me sketch you?' he asked instead as Erik yanked the cork out and set the bottle to breathe. 'I've been offered a place in a show, but I need some more paintings.'

Erik narrowed his eyes. 'Are you expecting me to pose nude?'

'If you want to, sure,' Steve grinned, retrieving a bottle of Stella Artois from the fridge since Erik hadn't made any moves towards his special shelf. 'But I usually deal in more candid slice of life type things. But if you want to show off all your hard work, I can do that too.'

Erik laughed, loud enough that Tony and Charles sent startled glances towards them. 'Very well. If you want candid, you may sit in a booth and sketch to your heart's content.'

'Great,' Steve gave him a companionable slap on the back and went to hand over Jarvis's wine.

****

Tony sidled up to Pepper, keeping Natasha at least one person away from him and in his eye line because he had plenty of survival instincts, thank you very much.

'Was she particularly terrible this week?' he asked, brushing his lips over Pepper's cheek when there was a lull in the conversation. 'Should I be pouring vodka into you? Erik has some fascinating curios behind the bar; guaranteed to make you forget your name and all your troubles.'

'I think we've settled most of the details,' Pepper slid her hand into his and squeezed. 'I've just told her the rehearsal dinner is her private domain, so she's up to her eyebrows in caterers and sommeliers.'

'You've not let her do the Bachelorette Party too, though?' Tony shuddered to think what _that _would be like.__

' _I'm _in charge of that,' Natasha smirked. 'It will be marvellous.'__

'Great,' Tony smirked at her. 'I'm doing the Bachelor. Maybe we should exchange notes-'

'No strippers, Tony,' Pepper jabbed a pointy fingernail into his solar plexus. 'And Happy gets to the ceremony with at _least _an hour to spare.'__

'No strippers?' Tony whined. 'Aw, _Pep _-'__

'If I hear a single account of a stripper, Anthony Edward Stark,' Pepper said, smiling like a shark. 'I will personally tell your mother about what _really _happened when you called from Bora Bora needing bail money.'__

Carol looked like she was going to ask, so Tony hurriedly agreed. 'You drive a hard bargain, Virginia. All right, _fine _; no strippers. I'm going to go pull stupid faces at Peter's camera for a while now to make up for the disappointment.'__

Erik seemed to have left the bar unguarded, so Tony ducked behind it to find out whether or not the peyote tequila had been an abberation. He was shoulder-deep into a dust-filled recess when Erik said 'There's a thousand-dollar penalty for interfering with my system.'

Tony jerked, cracking his head against the underside of the bar with great force. 'Ow, shit, motherfucker!'

When he pulled himself out to glare up at Erik, the man just crossed his arms. 'Is your learning curve always this shallow?'

'I'm a risk-taker, baby,' Tony muttered, rubbing at the back of his head. 'And I'm a genius. Got a paper that says so and everything.'

'Just _think _how much smarter you'd be,' Charles chimed in, elbows braced on the bar as he grinned down at Tony. 'If you hadn't taken so many blows to the head. Boggles the mind.'__

Tony flipped them both off and grabbed for the closest bottle. Somehow Erik intercepted him, fierce karate chop leaving Tony's hand stinging.

'Ow!' Tony edged away. 'What are you, a ninja?!'

Erik just smirked.

'Urgh!' Tony threw his hands up. 'What am I allowed to drink, then?'

'I can make you a Long Island Iced Tea,' Erik sniffed. 'Since Charles no doubt pities you for your much deserved injury.'

Tony rolled his eyes. 'Much obliged.'

****

'Wait,' Tony paused, causing Steve and Rhodey to stumble when they kept moving. 'If my mother's organising the rehersal dinner... aww, crap.'

Rhodey staggered around to stare at him. 'You mean you didn't realise the whole damn wedding was going to be parents-heavy? Why does everyone think you're a genius again?'

'Oh, shut up,' Tony slid his arm back around Steve's waist and started them shuffling forward again. 'It's not usually _my _parents at these things. Urgh, this is going to be horrible.'__

Steve's grip on Tony's shoulder tightened momentarily, and Tony sighed. If Steve was going to keep being so handsy, Tony was going to spend a lot more time pants-bustingly horny.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I present a rather longer chapter to make up for the fact that I'm a lying liar who lies about how long it'll take me to update /o\

Steve lost an entire week frantically scribbling Tony's face, the curve of his neck, his hands. Page after page in book after book, he drew Tony over and over again. Truthfully, he had enough material for at least two of the four paintings after one day, but the permission to stare was too good to give up so soon.

He didn't realise how dangerous it was until he caught himself ignoring reality and inking out the lines of Tony's bare arse as Tony lay spread out among the components for Jarvis's latest upgrade, twisting to grin at Steve.

'Getting any good ideas?' Tony's legs lolled open, and Steve slammed his sketchbook shut.

'Uh, I've got plenty to work with,' he coughed uncomfortably and stood up. 'I think I'll go take Erik up on his offer. Uh... I'll see you later?'

Tony blinked at him, rolling onto his side to stare at him. 'All right?'

Steve could feel the blush starting at around his sternum, so he just nodded and fled with his charcoal and sketchbook.

****

Erik raised an eyebrow at him when he got to the bar, and brought a bottle of wine over.

'Let me know if you want me to take my shirt off,' he said in loud English, smirking as his fan club turned as one to stare. 'Normally I would not, but you look like you need something good in your day.'

Steve rolled his eyes, but thanked him.

'Let me know if you need anything,' Erik slapped Steve's shoulder and headed back to the bar. Steve ignored the group mournful pleading stare from the corner and turned to a fresh page.

****

In spite of his mini panic attack over Tony, Steve finished the four extra canvases with a week to spare. He'd wound up using Tony for three of them; there was just too much inspiration to ignore, he told himself. The fourth was a series of stills of Erik behind the bar, fierce competence in every line of him.

'You need help delivering them?' Tony asked from the doorway into Steve's room, staring admiringly at the last canvas. 'Erik agreed to let you paint him? I _knew _he liked you best.'__

Steve jumped, turning to face him. 'Tony! I...'

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, shooting nervous glances at the pile of canvases. He didn't want Tony seeing them before the opening.

Tony held his hands up. 'No peeking, OK,' he grinned. 'Do you want a hand getting them to _Tigra!! _?'__

'I don't think the Corvette is such a great transport for paintings,' Steve replied, trying to shuffle in front of the canvases without being too obvious about it. 'I'll see if Tigra has a van.'

'What,' Tony raised his eyebrows. 'You think I only have the one car? _Puh-lease _.'__

Steve took a deep breath and threw a sheet over the pile. 'That'd be great, Tony. Thanks.'

****

Tony drove Steve and his Super Secret Seriously Tony Don't Look pile of paintings down to Tigra's gallery in his Range Rover, and waited patiently in the car while Steve awkwardly manhandled everything inside.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, keeping an eye on the door and waiting for Steve to come back out. He was _itching _to get a look at the show, but he'd promised Steve he'd wait until the opening night.__

Argh! A whole week, though? Maybe if he just got out to stretch his legs. If he happened to wander past the open door and catch a glimpse, that was hardly _peeking _, now was it?__

He was out of the car and striding towards the door before he'd really thought about it, keeping his footsteps light so Steve wouldn't hear him com-

'No previews!' Tigra barked from right behind him. Tony jumped, flailing as he turned.

'Jesus Christ, woman!' he clutched at his chest. 'You want to give me a heart attack?!'

Tigra snarled, stomping past Tony to throw the door closed. 'If I thought you had a heart, then yes,' door now safely closed, she seized Tony by the arm and dragged him back to the car. 'Steve will be out in a minute, and you will buy at least three of the works at opening night to make up for your transgression.'

Tony glared at her, pulling his arm free. 'What transgression? I didn't do anything!'

Not that he had any intention of letting someone else buy Steve's work, but hell if he was going to tell Tigra that.

Tigra just snarled at him again and slammed back inside her gallery. Tony thunked his head back against the roof of his car, muttering curses to himself.

'I hate _everything _,' he decided, and got back into the driver's seat.__

****

'Looking pretty slick there, Cap.'

Steve turned to grin at Clint and Phil. 'Hey, glad you could make it!'

Clint grabbed him in a bear hug, slapping his back and whispering 'congratulations,' in Steve's ear.

'You seem to be doing very well so far,' Phil observed, tilting his still-full glass towards Steve. 'I think Stark's trying to break the record for quickest purchase of an entire show.'

Steve grimaced, flicking a glance towards Tony, who was stalking Tigra and cutting off attempts by the crowd to offer her money.

'I don't know why he's being like that,' Steve rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. 'It's not like he's got the room to display them.'

Phil shrugged, expression bland. 'He's a collector. And a bit of a trendsetter; you'll likely be in some demand after this lot realise how keen he is on you.'

Steve flushed, trying not to look at his paintings. He'd taken one look at Tigra's layout and felt a bone-deep terror at how _obvious _his feelings were. Every canvas showed Tony in loving detail, even the ones where Tony was carefully disguised seemed to scream Steve's love to the room. He'd spent the whole evening waiting for Tony to notice, but so far he just seemed intent on throwing increasingly embarrassing sums of money at Tigra.__

She'd grinned at Steve the last time she'd swept past him, apparently ignoring Tony's attempts at buttonholing her.

'So,' Clint elbowed him to drag Steve's attention back from Tony. 'Which of these is least likely to break the bank of a humble civil servant?'

Steve laughed. 'How about I paint the two of you? I think it's going to be a while before I can claim starving artist status again,' even if he donated three quarters of his sales to charity, he'd still be ridiculously flush for a while thanks to Tony and Tigra. 'As a thank you.'

'For what?' Clint and Phil shared a glance. 'Not that we'd turn down a Rogers Original,' Clint fluttered his lashes, mock swooning into Phil.

'For helping Tony, of course,' Steve grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. He resolutely ignored the speaking look they shared at that, and turned to look for Pepper. She was standing in front of one of the other artists' sculptures, head cocked and murmuring to a grinning Charles.

'Seriously,' he smiled at Clint. 'I'd be honoured if you'd let me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and thank Pepper again.'

He edged through the crowd, accepting a ridiculous number of compliments as graciously as he knew how.

'Steve!' Charles crowed, throwing his arms out and sloshing champagne over a lady in a patchwork shawl. She didn't seem to notice, but Steve steered Charles away from her just in case. 'You _must _let me commission you for the bar!'__

'Absolutely,' Steve couldn't restrain his smile. 'Let me know when to come around. I don't think I'll have too many constraints on my time after the wedding.'

'Tony _is _flinging rather a lot of money your way,' Charles laughed, hooking an arm through one of Steve's. 'One might almost think-'__

'It's just that they're almost all of him,' Steve cut him off before he could finish that thought.

'Vanity's a terrible thing,' Charles grinned, teasing. 'Why did you give his so much to feed on?'

Steve shrugged and turned to Pepper. 'Pepper! I just had to thank you again!'

Pepper brushed a kiss against Steve's cheek. 'They're marvellous, Steve! I think I'm going to have to challenge Tony to single combat for _Fleeting Sorrow _.'__

'I have confidence you'd win,' Charles flagged down another passing waiter and refreshed everyone's champagne. 'He's lost every bar fight I've ever seen him in.'

All in all, the opening night was much less harrowing than Steve had been afraid; helped out by the twin bonuses of Tony failing to pick up on Steve's crush and his alley cat impression whenever anyone else had tried to buy one of Steve's paintings.

'Successful night?' Tony asked as he collected Steve from farewelling the last few guests alongside Tigra and the three other artists.

'Tony!' Steve beamed at him, rather more drunk than he'd intended to get on the free-flowing champagne. 'You shouldn't have bought everything. I can paint for you whenever.'

Tony's hand rubbed up and down Steve's back, accompanied by a chuckle. 'Don't worry, Steve,' he steered Steve outside and towards his car. 'I didn't deprive everyone of your genius. I've just created a demand for it.'

Steve laughed at him and let Tony take him home.

****

The rehearsal dinner was, as Tony expected, sixteen different kinds of awful.

What with Obie slinking around the edges of the party trying to cut Tony from the herd without Howard or Maria noticing, and Howard's disapproving expression fixed unerringly on Tony, and the fact that it was in his parents' ballroom and awkward as fuck...

Not fun. Even Pepper seemed to be a little subdued, and Tony found himself a little afraid Natasha was going to set something on fire to cover their escape.

He didn't even have Steve to perv on, and hadn't he read that the whole point of a rehearsal dinner was so the two sides of the family could meet and mingle before the actual ceremony? That seemed incredibly pointless when the bride and groom had the _same _family (though that sounded rather more Alabama put like that than Tony had intended).__

The only salvageable thing about the whole evening was that his mother had commandeered the cellar and pretty much just tipped the whole lot into the ballroom. Tony was just grabbing a bottle of some ferociously expensive French thing when his father collared him.

'Tony,' Howard dragged the bottle out of Tony's hands and replaced it with a high ball of soda water. 'Almost at the end of your little holiday. Have you enjoyed yourself?'

Tony glared at the water. 'Immensely.'

He had, actually. It had been unexpected fun just mucking around and letting whim direct his design moves; let alone _Steve _...__

Tony reeled himself in and decided to jump straight in.

'I've been thinking about SI's future,' he shifted his weight so Howard's hand would drop from his shoulder without it looking like he was pulling away. 'And I really think that we ought to be branching out into smart electronics-'

'You've already cleared the Stark Phone, Tony,' Howard's moustache twitched up as he smiled. 'Sure, tablets can be on the table when you come back.'

There was no point easing into it, Tony decided. 'I don't want to design weapons anymore.'

Howard's smile vanished. 'You _know _the military contracts amount to sixty per cent of SI's funding,' he looked up for Obie and jerked his head. 'Let's take this to the library.'__

Well, Tony thought as his father and Obie herded him out of the ballroom's awkward atmosphere. At least the night was going to liven up a bit.

****

'I've got several ideas for improved body armour,' Tony said before the door had even closed behind them, striding over to rest his elbows on the back of a large wing-back chair so there was something physically between him and the other two. 'A few leads on stealth options and ways to counteract laser targeting systems. We can serve out the contracts with those instead of missiles. I've even got a concept drawing for a flying defence platform; like an aircraft carrier in the sky-'

'We've been supplying ground breaking weapons to the US military since your great-grandfather started SI,' Howard said flatly. 'Starks have been at the forefront of the weapons game for over a century.'

'And we can be at the forefront of something creative instead of destructive!' Tony shouted. 'There's a lot more to military issues than finding bigger ways to sling a stick around. I've been designing for you since I was thirteen. How many people have died as a direct result of my actions?' he ran both hands through his hair, scrubbing painfully hard. 'OK! All right; how about improved shock grenades? Anti-personnel weapons that don't kill. That's _got _to be a better-'__

'SI's reputation is built on weapons,' Obie broke in, laying a hand on Howard's shoulder to stop him from storming forward. 'The money for projects like your clean energy reactors and the smart crops _comes directly _from the military, Tony. Don't be naïve. And they're not going to let you fob them off with pop guns and better kevlar when they paid for Jericho. Be reasonable.'__

Tony stared at his father and Obie. He felt like he was about to swell up and burst from all the years of objections he'd never voiced; he wanted to scream at them until they understood that the old way of running SI was the _wrong _way, dammit. You only had to look at Microsoft or Apple or Google to see that private enterprise didn't have to wait around for the military to notice them.__

But there was no way they'd ever change their business plan. It'd worked too well for too long, and the dinosaurs on the board had no love of Tony _or _progress. He straightened.__

'I'm tendering my resignation,' he said, as calmly as he could. 'Effective immediately.'

'Don't be stupid, Tony,' Howard scowled at him. 'You're overwrought-'

'What am I,' Tony demanded. 'A Victorian heroine? I'll send the letter to HR tomorrow. Now, I think I'd better leave. Wouldn't want to ruin Pepper and Happy's night. Tell them I got a headache, would you please?'

He turned and left before Obie or his father could say anything.

Tony grinned when he got outside. Apparently he _was _going to start his own company.__

****

Steve gave him a funny look when he got home, but Tony just gave him an absent grin and grabbed a laptop and a tablet before shutting himself in his room.

He had a business plan to sketch out.

****

By the time it was the night before the big day, Tony had gathered that his father had decided not to tell anyone about Tony quitting. Which was good; the wedding was far more important, and Tony really didn't want to make things more awkward.

'You _did _remember Pepper's rules for tonight?' Happy asked, a shade too untrustingly in Tony's opinion. 'I'm pretty sure Natasha bugged me, so she'll know if you lied and ordered strippers.'__

'Psht,' Tony opened the door to Charles's bar and ushered Happy in. 'I would never risk the wrath of the Green Beret Bridesmaids. But I said nothing about how severe your hangover was going to be.'

'Hooray,' Happy grinned at him. 'My thirteenth Tony Stark Bender, TM.'

'Huh,' Tony flicked the lights on, and the room erupted into cheers. 'Only thirteen? I'll have to do something about that.'

'Please don't,' Happy mock-pleaded. 'Just get me to the house on time.'

'You're the boss, Boss,' Tony shoved one of Erik's fluorescent monstrosities at him. 'Now drink!'

****

It was a pretty fantastic bachelor party, Steve thought, watching from the corner booth where he'd done a lot of sketching. Even Erik was smiling, except whenever Peter's camera was aimed in his direction.

'Seeing pink elephants yet?'

Steve looked up at Jarvis and smiled. 'I've been sticking to bottled beer. And Tony's been too busy to make me drink any faster.'

Jarvis stared across the room at Tony, a concerned frown sneaking around the edges of his calm expression.

'Is something the matter?' Steve slid over, tugging at Jarvis's arm to get him to sit.

Jarvis smiled at him, settling onto the bench. 'I've just been a little concerned. Tony had a fight with his father again.'

'Oh,' Steve frowned at Tony, who was apparently trying to turn an empty bottle into a rocket with Peter's help. He'd try and stop him, but Erik was already storming towards them. 'He's actually seemed happier this week, if that helps?'

Jarvis thought for a moment, then his expression cleared. 'Ah!' he chuckled. 'Oh, I think I might have an idea why. Oh, well done, Tony.'

'So we're not worrying anymore?' Steve took another sip of his beer, snorting when Erik launched himself like a linebacker as Tony lit a match.

'Oh, I rather think not,' Jarvis's eyes sparkled as Tony's protestations echoed much louder than the music. 'I hope Mr Parker is getting plenty of footage.'

****

'The problem is,' Tony gave an exaggerated shrug, shooting a quick glance at Erik to make sure he wasn't about to tackle Tony into another wall. 'We can't fabricate building materials that are light, flexible and strong enough to make it worth the effort.'

'Oh,' Peter fumbled his drink as he dug around for his phone. 'Yeah, it's totally possible to manufacture a super-strong hyper-flexible polymer. Pretty ridiculously cheaply, too, if you have the equipment.'

He shoved his drink onto a nearby table and flicked through his phone before handing it over to Tony.

'It's just a matter of refining that formula,' his hands waved in giant expressive circles. 'It's not stable enough for construction yet, but given a year or so it could be refined.'

Tony stared at the screen. 'Peter,' he said wonderingly. 'Why the hell haven't you got yourself into a PhD programme?'

Peter shrugged, taking his phone back and shooting his own nervous glance at Erik. 'Couldn't afford grad school. I just mean, it's _theoretically _possible. I'd better get back to work.'__

Peter abandoned his drink, hurrying across the room towards Steve and Happy.

Tony frowned. He hated waste of potential, and if Peter had worked out that formula in his spare time between hanging in trees to catch photos and getting chewed out by Jameson, he had _a lot _of potential.__

'Note to self,' he told his own phone, with its own proto-Jarvis that was kicking Siri's arse up and down the block. 'PhD scholarship for Peter. And get him a new contract for R&D, on the bottom floor for stock options.'

Damn, that kid was a good investment, he shook his head, and turned back to trying to sneak behind the bar without Erik seeing.

****

'Where's Tony got to?' Charles asked, leaning heavily on Steve to peer around the room.

'Oh, Jesus,' Steve took a look around himself. 'I'd better go look for him.'

'You needn't bother,' Erik said, prying Charles off Steve with an exasperated huff. 'I put him in time out. He still has ten minutes to run.'

Steve felt his face scrunch up. 'Do I want to know?'

Erik shrugged. 'He was bemoaning the ban on strippers when someone,' he shot a dark glare across the bar, but Steve couldn't tell who it was aimed at. 'Suggested that if he wanted strippers, he should provide the show himself.'

Charles burst into laughter, burying his face in Erik's shoulder. Steve closed his eyes and counted to ten.

'Did you cause any lasting harm?'

'Only to his ego,' Erik grinned. 'He is in the janitorial closet.'

Charles groaned. 'He's going to be _so _high when you let him out, Erik. He'll have huffed all the fumes out of our floor polish. We'll have fume-less floor polish.'__

'I don't think it works like that,' Steve said. 'But I think I might go let him out before he tries drinking something in there.'

'Also a good idea,' Charles hummed. 'Go save Tony from himself.'

Tony hadn't decided to destruct-test his liver, but he _had _constructed a surprisingly sturdy tower in the middle of the closet. He was perched on top, hunched over to keep from knocking himself out on the ceiling when Steve opened the door.__

'Hey,' he said, leaning against the door frame. 'See you've still got your pans on.'

'Erik threatened to staple them to me if I didn't,' Tony wiggled his fingers. 'You like my throne? I'm king of chlorinated bleachtopia.'

'Well, your majesty,' Steve poked at the base of the throne with his foot. 'Would you like to rejoin the festivities, or do your duties demand your presence here?'

'I don't know,' Tony tapped a finger against his chin. 'I _am _already on my throne...'__

'OK,' Steve moved to close the door again. 'More drinks for us, then.'

Tony scrambled down off his throne, skidding on the lino as he threw himself at Steve.

'I suppose it's about time I made an appearance,' he said quickly, rubbing against Steve as he shuffled past. 'I _am _the host, you know.'__

'Uh-huh,' Steve managed, having frozen at the first brush of Tony's hand. 'Sure.'

Tony gave him a sunny grin and shot off towards the bar. Steve just stood there, one hand on the door and stared at Tony's throne, trying to talk himself down from the dizzy heights of arousal.

****

Tony woke up glued to a table by his own drool and what smelt like a spilt tequila sunrise. He pried himself out of the puddle and squinted around the bar.

Erik and Charles were nowhere to be seen, so presumably Erik at least had been sober enough to get them home. He couldn't see Steve, either, but there was Happy lying curled around the potted ficus.

'Best man duties two for two so far,' Tony croaked victoriously. 'Didn't lose the groom!'

He staggered to the sink behind the bar and poured about half a gallon of water down his throat, then the same over his head. Then he filled a pint glass and tipped it over Happy, stepping quickly back to avoid his reflexive jabs.

'Morning Sunshine,' Tony grinned down at him. 'You're getting married today.'

Happy blinked at him, then threw up into the pot.

****

It was a brief cab ride back to Happy's apartment to hose him off and get changed into their wedding duds; Tony having stashed his suit there because planning was totally his forte.

'Hey,' he shouted through the bathroom door. 'We're actually ahead of schedule!'

Happy's response was too slurred to understand, so Tony decided to believe it had been effusive thanks for such an awesome Bachelor party.

Tony grinned, straightening his tie and called Maria.

'So for weddings you'll get up early,' she drawled as a greeting. 'Good to know.'

'Darling,' Tony laughed. 'We'll be there in about twenty minutes.'

'Copy that,' she paused for a moment, then. 'Bye, Tony.'

'See you soon,' he hung up and went to bang on the bathroom door again. 'Get the lead out, Hogan! Pepper's getting hitched today whether you're there or not!'

****

The Fifth Avenue mansion was teeming with people when Tony pulled up. Waiters and guests were _everywhere _, which helped immensely with avoiding his parents.__

'Come on, handsome,' he heaved Happy out of the car, grinning at Maria's sardonic eyebrow. 'You wanna help me get a few pints of coffee in him or do you prefer to mingle?'

'If there's a few pints for me, you've got yourself a deal,' Maria slipped out of the car too, blue silk skirts swirling around her knees. She slipped one of Happy's arms over her shoulder and helped Tony manoeuvre him into the kitchens.

'I rather thought you might need some help this morning,' Jarvis said when they got there. 'But kudos on making it here so early.'

Happy managed to get his coffee to his face without assistance, mumbling his thanks before hoovering the whole cup down.

'Yeah,' Tony said, pouring cups for himself and Maria before refilling Happy's. 'We may need another of these, Jarvis.'

Jarvis produced another carafe along with a small smile.

'You're a wonder,' Tony sighed, leaning against the bench beside Happy. 'Superhuman.'

Jarvis smirked. 'Indeed sir.'

****

Tony's mother had had the entire garden festooned with bunting and fairy lights, leading in a winding path to the edge of the pond where somewhere around four hundred chairs had been set in front of a raised platform.

Being a Stark, she'd also arranged for a bar off to one side to ensure no one hung back after seating was called.

Tony and Maria helped Happy up to the stage at twelve-thirty, tweaking his tie and cummerbund where they'd twisted a little, then Maria retreated to the audience.

Tony slung an arm around Happy's shoulders, re-checking the ring's presence in his waistcoat pocket as the crowd drifted down under the direction of waistcoated valets.

'Last chance to back out,' he whispered, arm tightening in a half hug. 'I'm still willing to man up and take your place-'

'Not on your life,' Happy returned, grinning ecstatically. 'I'm getting _married! _'__

'That you are,' Tony watched as Steve took his seat in the back, alone; apparently he hadn't bothered with a date. Steve looked up and smiled at him. Tony felt something in his chest tighten as he grinned back, oblivious to the crowd in the face of Steve's shining hair and bright smile.

Tony wasn't sure how long he stared at Steve, but he jumped when the bridal march started.

'Oh God!' Happy clutched at Tony. 'Do I look all right?!'

Tony turned, giving Happy a quick once-over and restraightening his tie. 'Perfect. You look perfect.'

'No,' Happy said dreamily, staring up the aisle. ' _She _looks perfect.__

Tony had to admit it; Pepper looked divine.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHAHAAHA... so this is the chapter that just would. Not. End. But I got there!  
> (I'm open to requests for shorts, sextras, fluffy extras, director's commentaries etc if anyone wants more)
> 
> Thank you _so _much to everyone who's read, reviewed, kudos'd or just enjoyed. <3<3<3__

The ceremony was probably lovely; Pepper and his mother had excellent taste, after all. But Tony couldn't really concentrate on it, he just let the minister's words flow over him and closed his eyes in the warm Spring sun.

'-speak now, or forever hold their peace,' he heard and sort of jerked, apparently violently enough that the minister raised a frowning eyebrow at him.

'No objections,' Tony shoved his hands in his pockets, grinning to cover his embarrassment. 'Carry on.'

He could see Steve slap a hand over his face in the back, his bright hair looming a good six inches over the guests beside him. Tony bit his lip and he shrugged under Pepper's and her bridesmaids' tandem glares. The minister shot him one more disapproving look, before continuing.

He managed to hand the rings over on cue, threw a handful of rice when Rhodey elbowed him, then ran straight to the bar as soon as Happy and Pepper had drifted back down the aisle together.

'Scotch,' he waved a couple of fifties at the bartender. 'As much as you can spare.'

'I always thought you enjoyed being the centre of attention,' Charles remarked from behind him, one hand coming to rest on the small of Tony's back. 'But I could almost swear you were sweating up there.'

'Knew I should've insisted on linen suits,' Tony said around his scotch. 'Any advice for my speech?'

Charles regarded him for a moment. 'Try to keep your blood-alcohol concentration at under thirty per cent. Maybe Steve has some suggestions; he seems to have a way with words.'

'Ahaha,' Tony swept a glance around the garden, frowning when he couldn't find Maria. 'Did Natasha ninja my date to ensure Pepper's good mood? Where's Maria got to?'

'Please,' Natasha drawled, resting a tiny but deadly hand against Tony's neck, having phased through a hedge or something. 'If I ninja anyone today, it'll be you.'

'Hooray,' Tony shuffled away from her, and she let the hand drop. 'And I see my parents heading this way, so I'm going to go... away.'

He ducked, trying to hide himself behind Charles and bolted for the cover of one of his mother's topiary things. Why anyone wanted trees in the shape of animals, he'd never understand.

****

'Lovely ceremony, wasn't it?' Steve held out a glass of champagne to Erik, who was lounging against the wall of Tony's parents' house and staring across the lawn at Charles.

'It was a wedding,' Erik shrugged, tapping his glass against Steve's before draining half of it. 'I've never really seen the appeal of spending half one's annual income on a single day's festivities.'

Steve propped himself against the wall beside Erik, sipping his own glass rather more carefully. 'No plans yourself?'

Erik turned and narrowed his eyes. 'I do not need a piece of paper to prove my commitment to Charles.'

Steve held his hands up in surrender. 'It's legal, not compulsory.'

Erik grunted, turning back to watch as Charles flitted around the various cliques, laughing and exchanging hugs.

They stayed in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of the brick and the sun.

'What of you and your Tony?' Erik ventured, tone a little too casual. 'Do you plan to marry?'

Steve felt his stomach sink. 'There is no me and Tony,' he closed his eyes, tilting his face up into the sunlight. 'He brought Maria, remember?'

He'd had plenty of time to watch Tony, gotten to know him well over the past year.

Fallen in love with him, Steve could admit in the privacy of his own head, but Tony didn't love him back. Steve brought his glass back up to his lips, trying to ignore the hollow disappointment in his chest.

Erik stayed silent for so long, Steve couldn't stop himself opening his eyes again. Erik's expression was curiously confused, all his habitual anger absent.

'But Charles said-' he studied Steve's face, and frowned again. 'And I observed. Why do you think he does not love you?'

Steve frowned at him, considering and quickly dismissing the idea that Erik might be mocking him. 'He values my friendship,' he said at length. 'And I know he loves me like he loves Charles or Rhodey.'

Erik made an irritated huffing noise. 'You are being deliberately obtuse. It doesn't suit you.'

Steve shook his head, tossing back the rest of his champagne in lieu of a response, turning to wave at Clint and Phil. The two of them waved back and started across the lawn, Clint waylaying a waiter carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres and shoving about six in his mouth before scooping another ten into cupped hands. The waiter stared bemusedly at the back of Clint's head for a moment, then turned to go refill his tray in the kitchen.

'Hello, Captain,' Phil said, nodding. 'Erik.'

Clint wiggled his eyebrows and a finger, jaw working furiously and cheeks chipmunked out. Steve rolled his eyes and grinned.

'How've you been?' Steve aimed the question at Phil, knowing from experience that inability to answer wouldn't stop Clint from trying, and he really didn't want to go to dinner covered in spit and crumbs.

'Fine,' Phil quirked a small smile. 'Lovely service, even if Tony is incapable of behaving.'

'Hey, he wasn't-' Steve started, cutting himself off at the co-ordinated knowing looks coming at him from all sides.

'Erik,' Phil said, turning away from Steve. 'I had some thoughts.'

Erik tilted his head, smirked and led Phil a little way away.

Watching the two of them, heads bent together deep in conversation, Steve had a moment of clarity about all the whinging Tony had done about Erik and Phil. There was a definite air of imminent world domination hanging around their heads.

'Mstrflgrlff,' Clint said, then swallowed. 'I'm a little scared and a whole lot turned on right now.'

Steve stared at the side of Clint's face as he stared after Phil until Clint reddened. 'Still King of Overshare?'

'Ruling over the peaceful land with Queen Reticent,' Clint shrugged. 'You OK?'

'Yeah,' Steve smiled at him. 'I'm good. You?'

Clint shrugged, stuffing half the remaining food into his mouth. 'Be nice not to have to hide, but regs, y'know?'

Steve rested a hand on Clint's shoulder. 'You could change jobs.'

'Yeah,' Clint snorted. 'Wanted: Insubordinate acrobatic sniper, must have own license and shaky mental health. Who'd want me?'

'Maybe let Phil write your CV,' Steve suggested. 'I'm sure he can cast that in a positive light.'

Clint laughed. 'Bureaucratese _is_ his first language. He once role-played a whole porno scenario like that; it was unexpectedly hot.'

'And back to the overshare,' Steve mock-sighed.

'Hey, man,' Clint said. 'Sold as seen, and you love it.'

Steve laughed, ruffling Clint's hair to hear the angry duck noise he always made. 'Yeah.'

****

'There you are.'

Having spent the last hour crouched behind a selection of green and leafy wildlife, petulantly swigging from his bottle of scotch, Tony was more than a little startled to hear Maria's voice.

'Ah!' he yelped, spinning in place. 'I was looking for you!'

'Certainly appears that way,' she said drily, flicking a glance at the bush. 'I came to tell you I've called a cab. It's been...nostalgic, but I think Natasha might shank me with a cocktail stick if I don't make tracks.'

Tony blinked. 'But she _told _me I was the only one she'd kill today.'__

'Uh-huh,' Maria smiled. 'But given the fact that she's been ten feet away from me giving the back of my head a dead-eyed glare for the last twenty minutes, I'm going to assume Pepper hasn't forgiven me, and is just waiting for the moment to unleash her lethal ballerina on me.'

Tony pouted. 'But there's still the dinner and the speeches and the dancing...'

'It's Pepper's day, Tony,' Maria replied, tone soft. 'I'm sure you can handle one night of solitude. Take Steve for a whirl around the ballroom. I'm sure I can trust you to make my excuses if anyone asks.'

Tony sighed and kissed her on the cheek, offering his elbow. 'Shall I walk you out to the driveway?'

Maria linked her arm through his. 'Such a gentleman when you know you're beaten.'

****

'I've been _abandoned_ ,' Tony threw his arms around Carol's shoulders, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder.

'I can't believe you actually looked Maria up,' Carol did some sort of military nerve strike on his arm and ducked away from his grip. 'Let alone brought her to Pepper's wedding.'

'Ow! Dammit, how do you _find _those spots?' Tony demanded, rubbing his arm and half-heartedly glaring at her. 'Will you dance with me, or is that too close to linking our names?'__

Carol rolled her eyes. ' _One_ dance, Tony. Why aren't you draped over tall, blond and muscly now that the raging psycho's gone?'

She followed as Tony headed over to the bar, Maria having purloined his bottle of scotch as she slid into the cab, raising a challenging eyebrow through the window as it pulled away.

'I don't even know where Steve is,' Tony tried, keeping his tone light and waving at the bartender for some Evan Williams. 'I'm sure he's scamming on some pretty young thing, and I don't want to be Captain Cockblock like you bitches seem to revel in-'

'Really?' Carol punched him in the arm. 'You think mister stares-at-Tony-making-cow-eyes-for-the-whole-damn-party is off "scamming on pretty young things"?' Carol twitched exaggerated finger quotes as Tony passed her a glass. 'The same guy who painted a dozen portraits of you for his first ever showing? Who do you think you're fooling?'

Tony frowned at her, half turning away to stare at the crowd to keep an eye out for his parents. 'So I took your advice,' he said, sipping at the bourbon. 'I quit SI. Gonna start a whole new company.'

Carol's hand slipped onto his forearm. 'Is that why you're hiding from your dad again? Good on you. What's Pepper say about it?'

'Haven't told her yet,' Tony smiled. 'You're the first person I've told beside Obie and Dad.'

Carol looked shocked. 'Really?'

'Yeah,' Tony put his hand over hers on his arm. 'It was your idea, after all. And I didn't want to snake any of Pepper and Happy's big day.'

'It's great, Tony,' Carol grinned. 'But nice try changing the subject. Why haven't you made a play for Steve? I saw how the two of you looked at each other-'

'Nope,' Tony shook his head. 'Which dance are you deigning to perform with me?' he caught a flash of movement headed their way, shoulders tightening reflexively as he recognised Obie's on-the-prowl grin. 'Gotta lock it in on your dance card. Don't want Rhodey poaching all the good ones.'

'To- _ny_ ,' Carol sighed, drooping like her strings had been cut. 'You can't just-'

'Take this, Major Sexy,' Tony shoved his bourbon at her, stepping away from it quickly. 'Ahh, hello Obie. Long time no see.'

He could see Carol frowning at them if he turned his head, so he just let Obie sling an arm around his shoulders and smiled.

'Heya, my boy,' Obie said, and wow. Rhodey was right; that was _super creepy _when Tony was mostly-sober. 'Your dad wants to talk. Maybe we can work out this little dilemma after we send the happy couple off, hmm?'__

'Sure,' Tony twitched, suddenly desperate but unsure how to get away. 'Talking's great; I love talking.'

'Tony,' Natasha, and God! Tony would've _never_ thought he'd be glad to see _her_! Slid an arm into Tony's. 'We need your... particular skills for a moment,' she shot a vaguely dangerous smile at Obie. 'I'm sure Mr Stane doesn't mind.'

'Not at all,' Obie grinned around his cigar. 'Off you go, Tony. Duty calls. We'll see you tonight.'

Tony let Natasha guide-drag him across the lawn until Obie disappeared behind a gaggle of someone's aunts, then pulled free. Or tried to, at least.

'Tash,' he tugged at his arm, marvelling at the way she managed to pull his resisting weight along even in six inch fuck-off-or-fuck-me-if-you-dare heels. 'Thank you for the rescue, but you can go about your business now... Natasha!'

She ignored him all the way into the hall, stopping in front of a door.

'Tony,' her hand slid up his arm, and Tony had a moment of blind, oh-God-she's-going-to-eat-my-face panic before the grip turned into some sort of ninja throw, and he found himself planted against a wall of cleaning supplies in a closet.

'Wait here,' Natasha said, before slamming the door closed in his face.

Well, if nothing else at least there was no Dad or Obie in here, Tony consoled himself. He overturned a bucket and sat down.

****

The door opened about ten minutes later, and Tony caught a glimpse of Natasha, Carol, and (holy shit! Was tht Emma Frost?) a blonde before Natasha tripped someone in and slammed the door again.

'Uh,' the someone said, blinking up at Tony from the floor. 'Hi.'

'Hi, Steve,' Tony reached down to help him to his feet. 'I'm doing ten to fifteen for lack of survival skills. What're you in for?'

There was the sound of a scuffle outside the door, and a voice hissed ' _Now kisssss_!'

'For fuck's sake, Emma,' Natasha replied, sounding almost like she was considering laughing sometime this decade, which: wow. 'Where do you come up with this stuff?'

'I'm down with the internet kids,' Emma sniffed, then someone banged on the door. 'You two are staying in there until you stop being morons! Which in Tony's case may be a life sentence, so sorry Steve.'

'You fucking harpies are going _down_!' Tony yelled, half-heartedly. 'I can destroy your credit scores inside ten minutes!'

'I'm sorry,' Steve had backed up against the wall, ducking his head and scuffing one shoe like a kid summoned to the principal's office. 'I could probably break down the door if the ladies move out of the way.'

'We're staging a sit-in,' Natasha yelled. 'Any attempt to bust out before we let you out will result in damage to at least two bridesmaids and therefore a bridezilla event of biblical proportions.'

Yeah, don't,' Tony put a hand on Steve's forearm. 'They won't last much longer; Pep was going to be doing the flower thing soon, they can't get out of that.'

Steve shuffled again, looking everywhere except for at Tony. There wasn't a lot of light, but his face seemed to be getting pinker.

'Are you blushing?' Tony demanded, jumping to his feet to get a closer look. 'Why are you _blushing_?'

Steve backed away from him, head bouncing off the door with an audible crack. Tony crowded him closer, hands coming up to cradle Steve's head.

'Wow, that sounded like it hurt,' he turned Steve's face to the side to try and get a look at the damage. 'Maybe they'll let us out to get you checked for concussion,' he frowned as he ran his fingers through Steve's hair, checking for lumps.

'Not fucking likely, Tony,' Carol called, a clear grin in her tone. 'Don't be a baby.'

Tony glared at the door, suddenly too-aware of Steve again. He could feel Steve's breath against his cheek, and he seemed to be breathing a little harder than he ought to be. They were close enough that shifting forward would have Tony pressed against Steve's chest, and he was just drunk enough to let himself. Steve's breath hitched, head twisting to stare into Tony's eyes.

'Tony,' he breathed, and Tony licked his lips, eyes widening when Steve's gaze dropped to watch. Maybe those crazy bridesmaids _weren't_ just fucking with him.

God, he hoped so, anyway. He took a deep breath.

'So,' Tony left one hand at the nape of Steve's neck, and let the other drift down Steve's shoulder. 'I'm going to do something reckless in a moment.'

Steve's lips twitched, humour lighting his eyes. 'Not Tony Stark.'

Tony swallowed, fingers curling slightly to grip Steve. 'If I'm wrong, I'm blaming the scotch.'

Steve groaned and thrust his hands into Tony's hair, dragging him the three inches forward to kiss him.

Tony parted his lips immediately, pressing even closer as he sucked on Steve's lower lip. Steve's hands slid down his back, grip settling on Tony's arse and pulling him possessively forward.

'Tony,' Steve moaned again, dragging his teeth down Tony's throat. Absolutely on board with that, Tony arched his head back, slipping a thigh between Steve's and babbling nonsense.

'Never thought you'd,' Tony gasped, scrabbling to pull Steve's shirt out of his pants. 'God, Steve. You're so... mmm, do that again...'

Tony urged Steve's head back up, wrapping his legs around Steve's waist.

'Show me,' Tony whispered against Steve's lips, grinning and elated. 'Gonna mark me up?'

He tightened his thighs, thumbing Steve's lower shirt buttons open and groaned, utterly wrecked when Steve reclaimed his mouth. He ran his hands over Steve's godlike abs and-

'Time's up, boys!' Natasha thumped on the door exactly behind Tony's head. There was no _way_ she didn't have x-ray vision, Tony thought. 'Straighten up and get back out for the bouquet!'

Steve let out a shuddering breath and dropped his forehead to Tony's shoulder. Tony let his head fall back against the door, moving his hands to Steve's back to run soothing strokes along the tense muscles.

They could stay here, Tony thought. Even if anyone noticed his absence, they'd just draw the correct conclusion, after all. No harm-

'You've got two minutes before we let Peter know where you are,' Carol called, because of _course_ all the women Tony knew had to be psychic furies.

'Fine!' he yelled over his shoulder, before sighing and unhooking his legs. Steve stepped back, still breathing hard which made Tony feel better about his own breathlessness. He tugged his suit back into presentable form with well-practiced and economical moves before letting himself enjoy the sight of a thoroughly dishevelled Steve. 'You are so unbelievably gorgeous.'

Steve flushed again, doing a much less professional job of setting his own clothes to rights. Tony considered lending a hand, but if he did anything to Steve's clothing it was going to wind up with Peter's camera getting involved. He just wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself.

'I...' Steve said after he got most of his clothing back to rights. 'Tony, is this...? I mean,' he looked up, locking gazes with Tony. 'Do you feel-'

'Utterly mesmerised by your every feature?' Tony leaned against the wall, keeping his hands behind his back. 'Hopelessly besotted? Incapable of keeping my mind or hands off you?'

Steve's mouth dropped open, and when he stepped closer again, Tony could see that his pupils were blown. 'Yes, that.'

Tony grinned. 'Every one of those and more. I am irretrievably in love with you, Steve Rogers, but I have to go and watch the bouquet nonsense and then give a speech, eat dinner, dance with Pepper and Carol and, God help me, Natasha probably...'

Steve's gigantic hands came up to cup Tony's face, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones. 'I was terrified you'd know how I felt at my show,' he whispered, leaning his forehead against Tony's. 'I've been in love with you since we went to visit Wanda. Tony, you drive me nuts-'

He surged forward again, groaning into Tony's mouth, nipping at Tony's lower lip and slipping a hand back down to Tony's arse. Tony grinned, walking Steve back to the middle of the cupboard and wrapping one leg back around Steve's waist.

There was suddenly light; a lot of light in a series of flashes, followed by Peter's voice whooping triumphantly. 'Winner for the candids competition!'

'I _told you what would happen,' Natasha said. When Tony turned his head to look, she, Carol and Emma were in a line, arms folded and wearing matching smirks._

Tony could feel Steve's groan reverberating through his whole body, and Steve buried his face in Tony's chest.

Tony considered being embarrassed, but it was a little late in life to start being bashful. So he laughed, grinning painfully hard as Peter raised his camera again.

****


	21. Chapter 21

Pepper shot all six of them a knowing, approving grin when the bridesmaids escorted Steve, Tony and Peter into the ballroom. Tony gave her a bright, toothy smile in return and leaned just a little against Steve as the womenfolk gathered to do the bouquet thing.

There was a surprisingly fierce struggle over the damn thing, but to absolutely no one's surprise it finished with Natasha holding the flowers over her head like a prizefighter.

'Why does she even _want_ to win?' Tony wondered. 'Isn't this about being next to marry?'

Steve shrugged, fingers tangling with Tony's. 'Maybe she just likes the flowers.'

'Maybe,' Tony rubbed his thumb against Steve's wrist. 'God, I have to be here for _hours_. You realise I'm going to be giving a congratulatory speech to my best friends while hard? It's your fault, Steve.'

'You're such a brat,' Steve groaned, fingers clenching around Tony's. 'I have to wait just as long, and saying things like that doesn't help.'

No one seemed to be looking their way, so Tony dragged Steve's hand up to press a kiss against his fingers. 'I'm sure we can sneak off for ten minutes if you're getting uncomfortable.'

'No,' Steve shook his head vehemently. 'I want our first time to be proper. Bed, privacy and lots of time. I can wait.'

'Unf,' Tony twitched, eyes dropping closed. 'Now I'm not sure _I_ can. Urgh, I'm going to be standing up in front of my _mother_ with a hard-on... uh, OK. That did it.'

Steve shook with laughter, leaning into Tony. 'OK, so maybe we should split up until it's time to leave? Make it easier to control ourselves.'

'Don't wanna,' Tony muttered. 'I just want to go home and spread you against my sheets and keep you there for a week.'

'Tony, there you are,' Rhodey gave him a huge smile, eyes widening as he saw their hands. 'Oh wow... _finally_!'

Tony and Steve gave him matching grins, leaning into each other.

'Damn,' Rhodey frowned after a moment. 'Tony, the wedding party has to get ready to go in to the head table. Sorry, guys.'

Tony sighed. 'I suppose I should have spent some of today writing my speech instead of making out in cupboards and crawling around behind bushes, huh?'

Rhodey's expression went pained, and he seized Tony by the arm. 'Really sorry, Steve, but I have to kill him. They're going to ring the dinner bell in about fifteen minutes.'

'All right,' Steve reeled Tony in for a brief, but passionate kiss. 'Don't say anything too awful.'

Tony's eyebrow twitched. 'No promises, Steve.'

****

'I've known Pepper for twelve years,' Tony said when Rhodey had kicked his ankle to prompt his speech. 'And Happy for four. I know the best man's supposed to tell some embarrassing anecdotes about the groom, but let's face it: Happy's a saint. Never done a single bad thing in his life. All the stories I could tell you about Happy and drinking are really about terrible things _I've_ done, and this ain't my birthday.'

He paused to grin at the laughter that ran around the room, patting Happy's shoulder with his hand.

' _Pepper_ , on the other hand,' he let his volume rise. 'Pepper's almost as terrifying as her green beret bridesmaids. Let me tell you about the first party we both went to, way back in our college days-'

'Don't you _dare_ , Tony!' Pepper yelled, bright red with laughter. 'I'll tell everyone about Vancouver if you do!'

'Oh!' Tony played up a wince. 'OK, not telling you about the party. But if anyone wants to come find me on the dance floor and ply me with liquor, no one can stop you.'

He grinned at the cheers and Pepper's mock-rage. 'So, since there's nothing embarrassing about the groom, and the bride will shiv me if I reveal anything about _her_ , I think we all know what to do: Ladies and gentlemen I give you the bride and groom!'

He raised his glass, drained it and heaved Pepper out of her seat, handing over the cake knife the caterer had left. 'Your show, Pep.'

Pepper kissed his cheek and dragged Happy up too. 'Who wants cake?!'

A cheer went up, and Tony left the party to the cake ritual, whatever that was, to go find Steve again.

****

'Was I restrained enough?'

Steve turned in his seat to grin up at Tony. 'I was very impressed. Hardly rude at all.'

Tony chuckled, tugging at Steve's hand. 'Come on, I think we can make tracks now. It's all over bar the shouting.'

'What about the dancing?' Steve kept his seat, tugging Tony a little closer. 'I thought you had to dance with every available woman? And shouldn't we at least wait until they've headed to the hotel?'

Tony heaved a huge sigh. 'Why am I suddenly supposed to be reliable? OK, OK. I promised Carol a dance, but I'm expecting you to cut in after three minutes.'

'Deal,' Steve pressed a kiss against the inside of Tony's wrist and let him go. 'And I think I see your father headed this way, so did you want to go hide again?'

Tony shot a look over his shoulder, sagging a little. 'Dammit. No,' he sighed again, straightening up and brushing the back of his fingers over Steve's cheek. 'I'd better talk to him. See you in a few?'

'I'll be waiting,' Steve promised, basking in Tony's grin.

****

'Library again?' Tony asked before Howard could speak. Howard nodded, turning on his heel and marching towards the hall.

Obie peeled away from a group of women Tony vaguely recognised from the Marketing department, slinging an arm around Tony's shoulders and grinning around his cigar.

'Actually,' Tony shrugged Obie's hand off and took a quick step back, glancing at Howard. 'Can we do this in private?'

Obie laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. 'Anything you want to say to Howard, you know you can say to me.'

Tony just looked at Howard.

'Go check on Maria for me, would you?' Howard said eventually. 'Some things are between a father and son.'

Obie blinked, his mouth dropping open and almost losing his cigar. He stared for a few breaths, but Tony and Howard just waited, so he plastered a jovial grin on his face.

'Of course,' Obie shot an unreadable look at Tony, and turned to go find Maria.

****

'So you're really quitting,' Howard headed straight for the bar when the door closed behind them. 'Nothing I can say to change your mind.'

'Nothing,' Tony agreed, accepting a glass of whiskey. 'I think Pepper will come with me too.'

'Unsurprising,' Howard's face relaxed a little, the closest Tony had seen to a real smile in a few years showing in his eyes. 'I'll fight you tooth and nail over contracts.'

Tony grinned. 'Good. I don't want anything I don't earn myself. Anyway, if you stick to weapons, we won't be direct competitors in many areas.'

'True,' Howard sank into one of the giant armchairs scattered at intervals around the room. 'I'm sorry we couldn't work it out in-house.'

Tony shrugged. 'You've got lots of good people, Dad. And it wouldn't kill you or the company to start exploring other avenues of revenue, but I understand why this is happening.'

Howard studied him for a long moment. 'I am proud of you, Tony.'

Tony felt his cheeks flame, and half turned. 'Yeah, OK.'

Silence fell for a while, Tony and his father both staring at the wall and sipping at their drinks.

'So that young man whose apartment you were filming,' Howard started, a glint in his eye.

'Dad!' Tony jerked. 'Oh my God!'

Howard laughed, the rough chuckle Tony remembered from a few incidents when he was a child, real family moments before the company and the press wormed their way into every aspect of their lives. 'He seems nice.'

Tony bit his lip. 'He's _wonderful_.'

'Hmm,' Howard finished his drink, getting to his feet and dropping the empty glass on the mantelpiece. 'You should bring him around for dinner in a few weeks, after we've had a rest from this nonsense.'

Tony looked at his father, mouth slightly open. 'Uh,' he managed after a moment. 'Yeah. I'll do that... thanks, Dad.'

Howard smiled again, and closed the door behind him.]

Tony dropped into the chair Howard had been sitting in, rubbing a hand over his face.

'Wow,' he said to the empty room.

****

He gave himself ten minutes for the mini-breakdown, then Tony took himself back into the party, making a beeline for Carol's yellow hair.

'May I have this dance?' he murmured, slipping a hand around her waist.

'Tony,' she gave him a concerned smile, lines on her face easing when he grinned back. 'You missed the bridal waltz.'

Tony pouted. 'Aww, shucks. Was it raunchy?'

Carol laughed, stepping away and grabbing Tony's hand to pull him towards the dance floor. 'It was beautiful. The lessons really paid off.'

'I suppose I'll have to scour facebook for the video,' Tony twirled her twice, settling into the familiar steps of a mambo. 'You getting lucky with anyone here tonight?'

'Not as lucky as _you_ ,' Carol bumped him with a hip, eyebrows bobbing suggestively. 'And I haven't heard a thank you yet.'

'Thank you,' Tony steered clear of a couple who seemed to be having more fun than success with the dance, guiding Carol towards the edge of the dance floor. 'For kidnapping me from my best man duties, locking me in a cupboard-'

'Closet?' Carol interjected with a grin, ducking Tony's half-hearted cuff.

'-With my room mate and hissing filthy suggestions through the door.'

'Most of those were Emma,' Carol pointed out. 'And we were acting on Pepper's instructions.'

'That magnificent bitch,' Tony whispered, awed into coming to a halt until another couple mambo'd into him. 'She would rule with an iron fist if she took over.'

Carol laughed again, taking a step back. 'I think I'll go find a drink. Enjoy the dance, Tony. Steve.'

Tony felt Steve's arms come around his waist and he twisted, lifting his face for a kiss. 'You want to lead or follow?'

Steve squinted at the other dancers. 'Uh, maybe follow? I don't think I know this one.'

Tony settled Steve's hands on him and went back to dancing.

****

'Ladies and gentlemen,' Rhodey shouted, Steve had no idea how much later. 'The bride and groom are leaving, if you would all come to the driveway to see them off?'

Tony pulled away, looking flushed and a little mussed up again. Steve _really_ like that look on him.

'I'd better go be in a few photos,' Tony said, leaning in to kiss Steve again. 'Then I'm taking you home.'

Steve could feel a warm possessiveness in his belly, and he trailed a hand down Tony's arm to tangle their fingers together. 'I'll be here.'

Tony blinked up at him, then took a sharp step back, wiggling a finger at him before laughing and running for Rhodey and the door.

'Sooo...' Clint draped himself along Steve's side, breathing champagne-and-cake into Steve's face. 'He's not in love with you, huh?'

Steve looked down at Clint for a minute, then slipped an arm around his waist and spun, lifting Clint into the air and twirling about five times.

'Whoo!' Clint whooped, unsteady on his feet when Steve dropped him. 'Congratulations, man.'

Steve grinned. 'Thank you.'

There was a coughing sound from behind them, then Phil said 'Let's go see the other happy couple off, hmm?'

Clint linked arms with Steve and Phil and they headed outside.

**Epilogue: Six Months Later**

'I quit.'

'Shut up,' Tony frisbeed a folder of paperwork towards Pepper's glaring face and kept striding towards the elevator. Clint, predictably enough, jogged to keep up.

'I do,' Clint insisted, stabbing at the sixteenth-floor button more viciously than he needed to. 'I really and sincerely quit. For realsies, Stark.'

Tony stared at him over his tinted shades. 'Oh, heard the siren song of the government pay cheque, have you? OK, then. Buh-bye, darling.'

Clint sagged against the elevator wall, rolling his eyes so hard Tony thought it had to hurt. 'Come on, Tony. Throw me a bone.'

'You mean _boner_ ,' Tony waggled his eyebrows. 'What's happened now?'

Clint muttered something, suddenly intensely interested in his own boots. Size 14, custom-built by Avengers Inc, Tony thought. Possibly due for an upgrade. Peter had been working on a polymer that showed signs of being resistant to ph levels from 2.5 to 13. _Very_ cool...

'What was that?' he prompted sweetly.

'I _said_ ,' Clint glared at him as the doors dinged and slid open. 'That little shit Parker glued me to the wall for three goddamn hours. I'm not his fucking guinea pig!'

'Actually,' Tony headed towards his newly-furnished office. 'You kinda are. Didn't you read your job description?'

'Didn't _you_ read the revised one he actually signed?' Phil stepped out from a doorway, holding out a flash drive. 'The weekly security review.'

Tony managed not to slam himself into the wall. He was getting used to working with a ninja; really he was.

'What do you mean 'revised'?' he demanded when his heart rate had dipped below 100 again. 'I didn't authorise any-'

'No, but Pepper did,' Phil smirked at him, holding an arm out for Clint to slip against his side. 'And as your head of Security I exercised my option of raising issues with employees' contracts.'

Tony stared at the two of them. 'Damn. I suppose I'd better send a memo out retracting the one about it being open season on Barton. Peter _will_ be disappointed.'

Phil raised an eyebrow. 'But you _won't_ be down a Head of Security and Chief Tester, which has to make up for a few prepubescent tantrums.'

Tony felt his lips begin to twitch, so he swivelled and marched into his office. Shiny desk, deliriously clear of paperwork, and the unexpected bonus of Steve hanging around by the window. He slammed the door in Clint and Phil's knowing grins and sauntered over.

Hey, hot stuff.'

'So I hear you're solvent again,' Steve turned, gripping Tony by the waist and walking him over to a wall. 'Are celebrations in order?'

'I don't know,' Tony tilted his head, pretending to think about it. 'What did you have in mind?'

Steve's smile widened. 'Oh,' he bent his head, stopping just shy of kissing Tony. 'I think you'll like it.'

'Will I just?' Tony laughed, and closed the gap.

Steve kissed him, then pulled away, huge hands pinning Tony to the wall.

'Ooh,' Tony grinned. 'Aggressive. I like it.'

Steve ignored him, pushing him once to tell him to stay put, then he sank to his knees. To... one knee.

'Oh my God,' Tony gasped.

'Tony,' Steve said, looking up through his lashes.

'Oh my _God_ ,' Tony yelled.

'Will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?' Steve was bright red and grinning, holding out a...

'Is that tungsten?' Tony reached out for the ring, giving in when Steve snatched the box away and held the ring out. 'Baby, you know me so well.'

'That's a yes, right?' Steve asked, but it wasn't really a question; he was already sliding the ring on Tony's finger.

Tony stared down at him, fingers slipping into Steve's hair, when a thought hit him.

'Shit,' he blinked. 'My mother's going to have _kittens_.'

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone who wants to riff off this in any way, you are _more _than welcome to ^_^ (and I'd _love _to see it if you do!____
> 
> If you'd like to sling any prompts/requests etc at me for things which were touched on but not expanded upon (or just general prompts), then go right ahead either through comments here or at my lj; meh_guh.livejournal.com
> 
> Or if you prefer, lob something in the ask box at Tumble: meh-guh.tumblr.com (since tumblr has a hate-on for underscores *razzerfrizzerrazzer*
> 
> Love you all for all the support, comments and kudos! I get a gigantic grin every time I hear the inbox alert
> 
> <3<3<3 ^_^ <3<3<3


End file.
